e 

03 


JOSEPH  MCDOI 

RARE  BOO 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS 


THE  AUTHOR   CONSULTING   HER   BROTHER 


,lAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS 


THE  LIFE  STORY  OP 


COL.  WILLIAM  F.  CODY 


(''BUFFALO  BILL") 


AS  TOLD  BY  HIS  SISTER 


HELEN  CODY  WETMORE 


COPYRIGHT,  1899 

IN 
THE  UNITED  STATES,  GREAT  BRITAIN  AND  FRANCE 

BY 

HELEN  CODY  WETMORE 


THE  DUI.UTH  PRESS  PRINTING  CO. 

DUUJTH,  MINN.,  U.S.A. 

PUBLISHERS 


183 

ioi 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  A 

SAINTED  MOTHER, 

WHOSE  CHRISTIAN     CHARACTER 

STILL  LIVES  A  HALLOWED 

INFLUENCE. 


PREFACE. 

In  presenting  this  volume  to  the  public,  the  writer  has  a 
two-fold  purpose.  For  a  number  of  years  there  has  been 
an  increasing  demand  for  an  authentic  biography  of  "  Buf- 
falo Bill,"  and  in  response,  many  books  of  varying  value 
have  been  submitted,  yet  no  one  of  them  has  borne  the 
hall-mark  of  veracious  history.  Naturally,  there  were  inci- 
dents in  Colonel  Cody's  life — more  especially  in  the  earlier 
years — that  could  be  given  only  by  those  with  whom  he 
had  grown  up  from  childhood.  For  many  incidents  of  his 
later  life  I  am  indebted  to  his  own  and  others'  accounts. 
I  desire  to  acknowledge  obligation  to  General  P.  H.  Sheri- 
dan, Colonel  Inman,  Colonel  Ingraham  and  my  brother, 
for  valuable  assistance  furnished  by  Sheridan's  Memoirs, 
"The  Santa  Fe  Trail,"  "The  Great  Salt  Lake  Trail," 
"Buffalo  Bill's  Autobiography,"  and  "Stories  From  the 
Life  of  Buffalo  Bill." 

A  second  reason  that  prompted  the  writing  of  Colonel 
Cody's  life-story  is  purely  personal.  The  sobriquet  of 
"  Buffalo  Bill  "  has  conveyed  to  many  people  an  impression 
of  his  personality  that  is  far  removed  from  the  facts.  They 
have  pictured  in  fancy  a  rough  frontier  character,  without 
tenderness  and  true  nobility.  But  in  very  truth  has  the 
poet  sung : 

"  The  bravest  are  the  tenderest — 
The  loving  are  the  daring." 

The  public  knows  Colonel  Cody  as  a  boy  Indian  slayer, 
a  champion  buffalo  hunter,  a  brave  soldier,  a  daring  scout, 
an  intrepid  frontiersman  and  a  famous  exhibitor.  It  is  only 

v 


VI  PREFACE. 

fair  to  him  that  a  glimpse  be  given  of  the  parts  he  played 
behind  the  scenes  :  devotion  to  a  widowed  mother  that 
pushed  the  boy  so  early  upon  a  stage  of  ceaseless  action, 
continued  care  and  tenderness  displayed  in  later  years,  and 
the  generous  thoughtfulness  of  manhood's  prime. 

Thus,  a  part  of  my  pleasant  task  has  been  to  enable  the 
public  to  see  my  brother  through  his  sister's  eyes — eyes 
that  have  seen  truly,  if  kindly.  If  I  have  been  tempted 
into  praise  where  simple  narrative  might,  to  the  reader, 
seem  all  that  was  required  ;  if  I  have  seemed  to  exaggerate 
in  any  of  my  history's  details,  I  may  say  that  I  am  not  con- 
scious of  having  set  down  more  than  "  a  plain,  unvarnished 
tale."  Embarrassed  with  riches  of  fact,  I  have  had  no 
thought  of  fiction. 

H.  C.  W. 

Codyview,  Duluth,  Minnesota, 
February  26,  1899. 


CONTENTS. 


PREFACE v 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  Old  Homestead  in  Iowa — Death  of  Samuel  Cody — A  Strange 
Prophecy  and  its  Fulfilment — The  Migration  to  Kansas— First 
Night  in  Camp,  and  Will's  First  Deer— The  Rescue  of  Turk— An 
African  Apparition — Temporary  Stop  in  Missouri I 

CHAPTER  II. 

Will's  First  Indian — A  Horse  Trade  Spoiled — The  Great  Overland 
Trail — The  Kansas-Nebraska  Bill— The  Home  in  Kansas — Two 
Babes,  a  Dog  and  a  Panther — The  Fearless  Fidelity  of  Turk — 
Will  to  the  Rescue 7 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  Shadow  of  Partisan  Strife — Father's  Political  Standing — The 
Meeting  at  Rively's — Father  Avows  His  Free  State  Sympathies, 
and  is  Struck  Down — Beginning  of  the  Persecution— Ruffian 
Visitors — The  Flight  to  Doniphan — Col.  Jim  Lane  and  His  Band 
of  Avengers — Father's  Return 13 

^CHAPTER  IV. 

Persecution  Continues — The  Adventures  of  Mr.  Sharpe — A  Night 
Attack — Outwitted  by  a  Woman — The  Sawmill  at  Grasshopper 
Falls — Will  Takes  the  Road — The  Ambush  at  Big  Stranger's 
Creek — A  Ride  to  Save  a  Father's  Life — The  I/e  Compton  Legis- 
lature— Ohio  Emigrants — Death  of  Isaac  Cody 19 

vii 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  V. 

An  Unjust  Claim— Will  Signs  a  Pledge— The  "  Boy  Extra  "  of  the 
Bull-Train — Attacked  by  Indians — The  Flight  by  the  River — 
Will's  First  Dead  Indian— Arrival  at  Fort  Kearney— The  Wreck 
of  the  Bull-Train 26 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Lawsuit— Lawyer  Douglass's  Plea— Arrival  of  the  Missing  Wit- 
ness—Sister Martha's  Wedding— The  Germ  of  the  Wild  West 
Show— An  Experience  with  Hard  Cider— Off  for  Fort  Bridger— 
Raided  by  Danites — Winter  Quarters  and  Short  Rations 34 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Hemmed  in  by  Indians — The  Dead-Mule  Barricade — A  Dream  that 
Saved  Three  Lives — Sister  Martha's  Death — Will  Goes  to 
School— Turk's  Rescue  of  His  Master— The  Fight  with  Steve 
Gobel— Off  for  the  Plains  Again 41 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Valley  Grove  House — A  Trapping  Expedition  and  a  Brush  with 
Indians — A  Cave  of  Horrors — The  Death  and  Burial  of  Turk — A 
Mild  Attack  of  Gold  Fever — Will  as  a  Pony  Express  Rider  ...51 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Pony  Express  is  "  Held  Up  " — Another  Trapping  Expedition — 
Fight  with  a  Bear — A  Broken  Leg — Alone  in  the  Dugout — An 
Indian  Visit  and  a  Touch  of  Auld  Lang  Syne — A  Desperate  Sit- 
uation— An  Eleventh-Hour  Rescue — Home  Again — Death  of 
Dave  Phillips 61 

CHAPTER  X. 

Echoes  from  Sumter — A  Station  on  the  Underground  Railway — 
Uncle  Tom  and  his  Sufferings — Will  Drops  his  First  Buffalo,  and 
Saves  a  Life — With  the  Pony  Express  Again — California  Joe — 
Indian  Troubles— Wild  Bill  ,  .  68 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Work  of  the  "  Black  Water,"  and  the  Retribution— A  Short  but 
Dashing  Indian  Campaign — A  Bear  Hunt  without  a  Bear — In  a 
Den  of  Horse  Thieves — What  came  of  Picking  up  Sage  Hens — 
Government  Freighting 76 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Mother's  Last  Illness— Her  Charge  to  the  Writer— Last  Message 

for  Will  and  Julia— Her  Death 84 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  Frontier  Funeral— Off  to  the  War— Will  as  Dispatch  Bearer— An 
Ambuscade  that  Failed — Death  of  Ed.  Norcross — An  Economi- 
cal Administrator  and  a  Lesson  in  Economy — Will  Reports  for 
"Secret  Service"— A  Perilous  Mission 88 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

The  Role  of  a  Spy — In  the  Lion's  Den — A  Ride  for  Life — Indian 
Trouble  on  the  Old  Santa  F6  Trail— Will's  First  Big  Battle — 
Wild  Bill  Again— Bread  Cast  Upon  the  Waters— Colonel  Hickok's 
Daring  Dash 98 

CHAPTER  XV. 

A  St.  Louis  Detail— The  Fair  Equestrienne— A  Rescue  and  a  Be- 
trothal— The  Overland  Stage  Route — Will  as  a  Driver — Another 
Race  for  Life — Turnabout  at  "  Holding  Up  "  is  Fair  Play  .  .  .  109 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Wedding— Will  Turns  Landlord — First  Effort  as  an  Individual 
Freighter  and  its  Disastrous  Ending — Scouting  at  Fort  Fletcher 
— The  Meeting  with  General  Custer — The  Mouse-Colored  Mule — 
A  Voice  in  the  Night— "The  Colored  Troops  Fight  Nobly"— 
The  City  of  Rome 120 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

How  the  Sobriquet  of  "  Buffalo  Bill "  Was  Won— The  Remarkable 
Performances  of  Brigham  and  Lucretia  Borgia — A  Contest  of 
Skill  in  Buffalo  Hunting — Will  Returns  to  Scouting — A  Danger- 
ous Ride — A  Tricky  Mule,  and  What  Happened  to  It 134 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Satanta, Chief  of  the  Kiowas— Scout  Cody  is  Captured  and  Tomahawked 
"  for  a  Joke" — A  Stern  Chase — One  Way  of  Bringing  Meat  into 
Camp— General  Carr's  Expedition— A  Big  Battle  with  the  Red- 
skins   142 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

At  Fort  McPherson — Pawnee  Scouts — "Buckskin  Joe" — The  Cam- 
paign Against  the  Sioux — The  Stand  in  the  Ravine — A  Long 
Shot,  and  the  Fall  of  Tall  Bull— His  Widow's  Sentiments  .  .  .  151 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Army  Life  at  Fort  McPherson— A  Buffalo  Hunt,  and  What  Came  of 
It — "William  F.  Cody,  Justice  of  the  Peace" — The  Beacon  on 
the  Hill-top — Ned  Buntline— The  Sioux  Legend  of  the  Creation 
— The  Great  Spirit's  Masterpiece  , 157 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Another  Marriage — A  Lodge  in  the  Wilderness — An  Indian  Raid  and 
the  Death  of  Little  John — Frontier  Banking — A  Mirage — Smoked 
Out — General  Duncan's  Expedition — Distinguished  Visitors — A 
Visit  to  Spotted  Tail 167 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

The  Hunt  of  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis — A  Ride  to  be  Remembered — 
Journey  to  the  East — A  Call  for  a  Dramatic  Hero — Social  Obli- 
gations— Will  Plays  Lucullus,  and  is  Staggered  by  the  Cost 
Thereof — A  Visit  to  Pennsylvania  Relatives 176 


CONTENTS.  xi 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Stolen  Horses— Will  is  Elected  to  the  Nebraska  Legislature— A 
Theatrical  Venture — Remarkable  Performance  of  "The  Scout 
of  the  Plains"— Wild  Bill  Grows  Restless— Will  Organizes  a 
Theatrical  Company  of  his  Own — Death  of  Kit  Carson  Cody  .  .  183 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  Sioux  Uprising  of  '76 — Sitting  Bull  the  Cause  of  the  War — 
Custer's  Campaign — The  Fifth  Cavalry's  Brush  with  Cheyennes — 
A  Prairie  Duel — The  Sioux  War  on  the  Mimic  Stage — "Scouts 
Rest  Ranch  "—An  Oasis  in  the  Desert 192 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Literary  Work — Colonel  Cody's  Autobiography — Guests  at  North 
Platte— A  Deer  Hunt— Why  the  Fawn  Went  Free— The  Ranch 
on  the  Dismal  River — Nine  Days  Camp  in  the  Foothills — An 
Estimate  of  Colonel  Cody's  Success  as  an  Actor 200 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 

First  Visit  to  the  Valley  of  the  Big  Horn — An  Indian  Description  v.  t 
Eithity  Tugala,  the  Ijis  of  the  Red  Man — Colonel  Cody's  Account 
of  the  Beauties  of  the  Big  Horn  Basin— The  Haunted  Lake— The 
Commands  of  the  Great  Spirit  from  an  Indian  Point  of  View  .  210 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 

Organization  of  the  "Wild  West  Show" — Opening  at  Omaha — Tour 
of  Great  Britain — Spectacular  Effects — In  London— Luncheon  in 
Honor  of  Gladstone — Patronage  of  Royalty — The  Queen's  Salute 
to  the  American  flag — The  Deadwood  Coach — Indian  Breakfasts 
— Homeward  Bound 218 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Return  of  the  Wild  West  Show  to  America— A  Letter  from  W.  T. 
Sherman — The  Season  on  Staten  Island — An  Invitation  to  Lead 
in  Prayer — OS  for  Europe  Again — The  Sojourn  in  Paris — Rosa 
Bonheur — Pope  Leo's  Anniversary — The  Cowboys  Show  the  Ital- 
ians Some  Points  in  Horse  Taming — Tour  of  Germany  ....  229 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Return  to  America — The  Sioux  Uprising  of  '91 — Influence  Exerted 
Over  the  Indians  by  the  Wild  West  Show — Will's  Opinion  of 
General  Miles — Banquet  in  Honor  of  the  General — Burning  of 
"Welcome  Wigwam" — Back  to  Europe — End  of  the  Foreign 
Tour 237 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

A  Thousand  Miles  in  the  Saddle  with  "  Buffalo  Bill  "— "  The  Garden 
of  the  Gods" — Preparations  for  the  World's  Fair — "The  Con- 
gress of  Rough  Riders" — Newspaper  Enterprise  in  Dufuth — 
Cody  Sanatorium 243 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"The  Tented  City  " — An  Incident  in  a  Boston  Hospital — The  Wild 
West  Visits  North  Platte— Cody  Day  at  the  Omaha  Exposition— 
A  Reunion  of  Pioneers 250 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

The  Taming  of  the  Wild  West — Grass-Grown  Trails  and  Hoary  Land- 
marks—The Trails  of  Steel— Old  and  New  Modes  of  Travel  Con- 
trasted—The Buffalo — The  Indian— The  "  Last  of  the  Scouts  "  .  261 


LIST  OF  FULL  PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

THE  AUTHOR  CONSULTING  HER  BROTHER.  Frontispiece. 

FACING  PAGE 

THE  OLD  CODY  HOMESTEAD  IN  IOWA  .  .  .  .  .34 
THE  FAMOUS  "  LEATHER  STOCKING  "  OF  ROMANCE  BECOMES 

A  TEN-YEAR-OLD  REALITY 46 

WILL  GUARDING  His  SICK  FATHER  's  LIFE  .  .  .  .58 
A  SICK  BOY'S  DESPERATE  RIDE  TO  SAVE  A  FATHER'S  LIFE  .  70 
NINE-YEAR-OLD  WILL  CODY  ASKING  MR.  MAJORS  FOR  WORK  84 
NOVEL  AND  NARROW  ESCAPE  FROM  AN  INDIAN  ATTACK  .  96 
"  LITTLE  BILLY  CODY  "  KILLS  His  FIRST  INDIAN  .  .no 
LIVELY  STAMPEDE  FROM  THE  CAVE  OF  HORRORS  .  .  .122 
WILL  RESCUES  His  HELPLESS  COMRADE  FROM  A  WOUNDED 

BEAR 136 

VISITING  His  FATHER'S  GRAVE 148 

A  DEADLY  ENCOUNTER  WITH  HORSE  THIEVES  .  .  .162 
WILL  BECOMES  ONE  OF  THE  GALLANT  BOYS  IN  BLUE  .  .174 
' ' SCOUT'S  REST  RANCH" — NORTH  PLATTE,  NEBRASKA  .  188 
CEDAR  MOUNTAIN  CANON — BIG  HORN  BASIN,  NEAR  THE 

TOWN  OF  CODY,  WYOMING 202 

COLONEL  CODY'S  FAMOUS  OLD  WAR  HORSE,  "CHARLIE"  .  214 
"WELCOME  WIGWAM" — COLONEL  CODY'S  RESIDENCE  AT 

NORTH  PLATTE,  NEBRASKA 226 

"  CODY    DAY"    AT    THE    TRANS-MISSISSIPPI     EXPOSITION, 
OMAHA — BUFFALO  BILL'S  WILD  WEST  PARADE  LEAV- 
ING MADISON  SQUARE  GARDEN,  1899     ....  240 
LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS 261 

THIRTY-TWO  INITIAL  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Xlll 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  OLD  HOMESTEAD  IN  IOWA — DEATH  OF  SAMUEL  CODY — 
A  STRANGE  PROPHECY  AND  ITS  FULFILMENT — THE 
MIGRATION  TO  KANSAS — FIRST  NIGHT  IN  CAMP,  AND 
WILL'S  FIRST  DEER — THE  RESCUE  OF  TURK — AN  AFRICAN 
APPARITION — TEMPORARY  STOP  IN  MISSOURI. 

PHEASANT,  'roomy  farmhouse, 
set  in  the  sunlight  against  a 
background  of  cool,  green  wood 
and  mottled  meadow — this  is 
the  picture  that  my  earliest 
memories  frame  for  me. 

Isaac   and    Mary   Qpdy,   my 
parents,  had  settled  in  Daven- 
port, Iowa,  after  their  marriage. 
Shortly  afterward    the    family 
moved  to  a  farm  near  the  little 
town  of  I^eClair,   and  at  this 
place — the  farmhouse   in    the 
dancing  sunshine,  with  a  back- 
ground of  wood  and  meadow — my  brother,  William  F.  Cody, 
was  born  on  the  26th  day  of  February,  1846. 

Of  the  good  old-fashioned  sort  was  our  family,  numbering 
five  daughters  and  two  sons — Martha,  Samuel,  Julia,  William, 
Eliza,  Helen  and  May.  Samuel,  a  lad  of  unusual  beauty  of 
face  and  nature,  was  killed  through  an  unhappy  accident 
before  he  was  yet  fourteen. 

No  doubt  old  settlers  in  Iowa  will  remember  "Betsy 
Baker,"  a  mare  of  speed  and  pedigree,  but  displaying  at  times 
a  most  malevolent  temper.  Upon  one  fateful  day  Samuel  was 

i 


2  LAST   OF   THE  GREAT   SCOUTS. 

riding  Betsy,  accompanied  by  Will,  who,  though  only  seven 
years  of  age,  yet  sat  his  pony  with  the  ease  and  grace  that 
distinguished  the  veteran  rider  of  the  future.  Presently  Betsy 
Baker  became  fractious,  and  sought  to  throw  her  rider.  In 
vain  did  she  rear  and  plunge;  he  kept  his  saddle.  Then, 
seemingly,  she  gave  up  the  fight,  and  Samuel  cried  in  boyish 
exultation: 

"Ah,  Betsy  Baker,  you  didn't  quite  come  it  that  time!" 

His  last  words!  As  if  she  knew  her  rider  was  a  careless 
victor  off  his  guard,  the  mare  reared  suddenly  and  flung  her- 
self upon  her  back,  crushing  the  daring  boy  beneath  her. 

Though  to  us  younger  children  our  brother  Samuel  was  but 
a  shadowy  memory,  in  him  had  fondly  centered  our  parents' 
hopes  and  aims.  These,  naturally,  were  transferred  to  the 
3'ounger,  now  the  only,  son,  and  the  hope  that  mother,  espe- 
cially, held  for  him  was  strangely  stimulated  by  the  remem- 
brance of  the  mystic  divination  of  a  soothsayer  in  the  years 
agone.  My  mother  was  a  woman  of  too  much  intelligence 
and  force  of  character  to  nourish  an  average  superstition;  but 
prophecies  fulfilled  will  temper,  though  they  may  not  shake 
the  smiling  unbelief  of  the  most  hard-headed  skeptic. 
Mother's  moderate  skepticism  was  not  proof  against  the 
strange  fulfilment  of  one  prophecy,  which  fell  out  in  this 
wise: 

To  a  Southern  city,  which  my  mother,  then  a  young  girl, 
was  visiting  with  a  brother's  wife,  there  came  a  celebrated  for- 
tune-teller, and,  led  by  curiosity  solely,  my  mother  and  my 
aunt  one  day  made  two  of  the  crowd  that  thronged  the  sibyl's 
drawing-rooms. 

Both  received  with  laughing  incredulity  the  prophecy  that 
my  aunt  and  the  two  children  with  her  would  be  dead  in  a  fort- 
night ;  but  the  dread  augury  was  fulfilled  to  the  letter,  for  all 
three  were  stricken  with  yellow  fever,  and  died  within  less 
than  the  time  set.  This  startling  confirmation  of  the  sooth- 
sayer's divining  powers  not  unnaturally  affected  my  mother's 
belief  in  that  part  of  the  prophecy  relating  to  herself — that 


LAST  OK   THE   GREAT  SCOUTS.  3 

' '  she  would  meet  her  future  husband  on  the  steamboat  by 
which  she  expected  to  return  home  ;  that  she  would  be  mar- 
ried to  him  in  a  year,  and  bear  three  sons,  of  whom  only  the 
second  would  live,  but  that  the  name  of  this  son  would  be 
known  all  over  the  world,  and  would  one  day  be  that  of  the 
President  of  the  United  States. ' '  The  first  part  of  this  prophecy 
was  verified,  and  Samuel's  death  was  another  link  between  past 
and  future ;  was  it,  then,  strange  that  mother  looked  with  un- 
usual hope  upon  her  second  son  ? 

That  'tis  good  fortune  for  a  boy  to  be  only  brother  to  five 
sisters  is  open  to  question.  The  older  girls  petted  Will ;  the 
younger  regarded  him  as  a  superior  being ;  while  to  all  it 
seemed  so  fit  and  proper  that  the  promise  of  the  stars  concern- 
ing his  future  should  be  kept,  that  never  for  a  moment  did  we 
weaken  in  our  belief  that  great  things  were  in  store  for  our 
only  brother.  We  looked  for  the  prophecy's  complete  fulfil- 
ment, and  with  childish  veneration  regarded  Will  as  one  des- 
tined to  sit  in  the  Executive's  chair. 

My  mother,  always  somewhat  delicate,  was  so  affected  in 
health  by  the  shock  of  Samuel's  death  that  a  change  of  scene 
was  advised.  The  California  gold  craze  was  then  at  its  apogee, 
and  father  caught  the  fever,  though  in  a  mild  form  ;  for  he  had 
prospered  as  a  farmer,  and  we  not  only  had  a  comfortable  home, 
but  were  in  easy  circumstances.  Influenced  in  part  by  a  desire 
to  improve  mother's  health,  and  in  part,  no  doubt,  by  the 
golden  day-dreams  that  lured  so  many  Argonauts  Pacificward, 
he  disposed  of  his  farm  and  bade  us  prepare  for  a  Western 
journey ;  but  before  his  plans  attained  to  completion  he  fell  in 
with  certain  disappointed  goldseekers  returning  from  the 
Coast  and  impressed  by  their  representations,  decided  for 
Kansas  instead  of  California. 

Our  equipment  for  the  journey  surpassed  that  of  the  average 
emigrant.  In  addition  to  the  three  prairie  schooners,  contain- 
ing our  household  goods,  we  owned  a  roomy  family  carriage, 
in  which  mother  and  daughters  rode.  Brother  Will,  possessor 
of  the  three  things  dearest  to  the  heart  of  a  boy — dog,  horse, 


4  LAST  OF    THE   GREAT  SCOUTS. 

and  gun — constituted  himself  our  bodyguard,  riding  beside  us 
upon  his  pony,  with  his  gun  across  his  saddle,  and  the  dog 
trotting  behind.  To  Will,  this  Western  trip  thrilled  with  pos- 
sible Indian  skirmishes  and  other  stirring  adventures,  though 
of  the  real  dangers  that  lay  in  our  path  he  did  not  dream.  For 
him,  therefore,  the  first  week  of  our  travels  held  no  great 
interest,  for  we  were  constantly  chancing  upon  settlers  and  farm- 
houses, in  which  the  night  might  be  passed  ;  but  with  every  mile 
the  settlers  grew  fewer  and  farther  between,  until  one  day  Will 
whispered  to  us,  in  great  glee:  "I  heard  father  tell  mother 
that  he  expected  we  should  have  to  camp  to-night.  Now 
we'll  have  some  fun  !  " 

Will's  hope  was  well  founded.  Shortly  before  nightfall  we 
reached  a  stream  that  demanded  a  ferryboat  for  its  crossing, 
and  as  the  nearest  dwelling  was  a  dozen  miles  away,  it  was 
decided  that  we  should  camp  by  the  streamside.  The  family 
was  first  sent  across  the  ferry,  and  upon  the  eight- year-old 
lad  of  the  house  father  placed  the  responsibility  of  selecting  the 
ground  to  pitch  the  tents  on. 

My  brother's  career  forcibly  illustrates  the  fact  that  environ- 
ment plays  as  large  a  part  as  heredity  in  shaping  character. 
Perhaps  his  love  for  the  free  life  of  the  plains  is  a  heritage 
derived  from  some  long-gone  ancestor ;  but  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  to  the  earlier  experiences  of  which  I  am  writing  he 
owed  his  ability  as  a  scout.  The  faculty  for  obtaining  water, 
striking  trails,  and  finding  desirable  camping  grounds,  in  him 
seemed  almost  instinct. 

The  tents  being  pitched  upon  a  satisfactory  site,  Will  called 
to  Turk,  the  dog,  and,  rifle  in  hand,  set  forth  in  search  of  game 
for  supper.  He  was  successful  beyond  his  fondest  hopes.  He 
had  looked  only  for  small  game,  but  scarcely  had  he  put  the 
camp  behind  him  when  Turk  gave  a  signaling  yelp,  and  out  of 
the  bushes  bounded  a  magnificent  deer.  Nearly  every  hunter 
will  confess  to  "  buck  fever  "  at  sight  of  his  first  deer,  so  it  is 
not  strange  that  a  bo#  of  Will's  age  should  have  stood  immov- 
able, staring  dazedly  at  the  graceful  animal  until  it  vanished 


OF  THE  GRRAT  vSCOUTS.  5 

from  sight.  Turk  gave  chase,  but  soon  trotted  back  and 
barked  reproachfully  at  his  young  master.  But  Will  presently 
had  an  opportunity  to  recover  Turk's  good  opinion,  for  the 
dog,  after  darting  away,  with  another  signaling  yelp,  fetched 
another  fine  stag  within  gun  range.  This  time  the  young 
hunter  mastered  his  nerves,  took  aim  with  steady  hand,  and 
brought  down  his  first  deer. 

Upon  the  following  Sabbath  we  were  again  camped  by  the 
bank  of  a  deep,  swift-running  stream,  across  which  Turk, 
wearied  and  heated  by  a  rabbit  chase,  attempted  to  swim,  but 
the  water  chilled  him,  and  he  would  have  perished  had  not 
Will  hastened  to  the  rescue  without  a  second's  hesitation.  The 
ferryman,  in  his  turn,  seeing  an  eight-year-old  boy  opposing 
the  rapid  current,  sprang  for  his  boat  and  sculled  after  him. 
Will  succeeded  in  reaching  the  other  shore,  and  the  comment 
of  the  ferryman  was  : 

"  You're  a  fool,  boy,  to  risk  your  life  in  swimming  a  stream 
like  this  !" 

"  But  I  couldn't  let  my  dog  drown  !  "  cried  Will,  surprised 
that  anyone  should  call  into  question  so  plain  a  fact. 

"  Well,"  said  the  ferryman,  smiling  grimly,  "  you're  gritty, 
anyway.  You  ought  to  make  your  mark  in  the  world."  And 
he  took  boy  and  dog  into  his  boat  for  the  return  trip. 

Turk  plays  so  conspicuous  and  important  a  part  in  our  early 
lives  that  he  deserves  a  brief  description.  He  was  a  large  and 
powerful  animal,  part  bull  and,  all  prejudice  aside,  one  of  the 
most  sagacious  and  devoted  of  the  canine  tribe.  We  regarded 
him  as  our  best  friend  when  we  set  forth  on  our  pilgrimage  ; 
and  when,  in  later  days,  his  fidelity  and  almost  human  intelli- 
gence were  repeatedly  the  means  of  saving  life  and  property, 
we  installed  him  as  a  member  of  the  family — ever  faithful, 
loyal,  and  ready  to  lay  down  his  life  in  our  service.  He  was 
none  the  worse  for  his  plunge  in  the  river,  and  his  gratitude  to 
Will  was  attended  by  added  devotion.  Outlaws  and  desperadoes 
were  always  to  be  met  with  on  Western  trails  in  those  rugged 
days,  and  more  than  once  Turk's  constant  vigilance  warned 


6  LAST  OF  THE   GREAT  SCOUTS. 

father  in  season  to  protect  the  camp  from  attack  by  suspicious 
night-prowlers. 

Indeed,  this  trip  was  memorable  for  all  of  us,  perhaps  espe- 
cially so  for  brother  Will,  for  it  comprehended  not  only  his  first 
deer,  but  his  first  negro. 

As  we  drew  near  the  Missouri  line  we  came  upon  a  comfort- 
able farmhouse,  at  which  father  made  inquiry  concerning  a 
lodging  for  the  night.  A  widow  lived  there,  and  the  informa- 
tion that  father  was  brother  to  Elijah  Cody,  of  Platte  County, 
Missouri,  won  us  a  cordial  welcome  and  the  hospitality  of  her 
home. 

We  were  yet  in  the  road,  waiting  father's  report,  when  our 
startled  vision  and  childish  imagination  took  in  a  seeming 
apparition,  which  glided  from  the  bushes  by  the  wayside. 

It  proved  a  full-blooded  African,  with  thick  lips,  woolly 
hair,  enormous  feet  and  scant  attire.  To  all  except  mother 
this  was  a  new  revelation  of  humanity,  and  we  stared  in  wild- 
eyed  wonder  ;  even  Turk  was  surprised  into  silence.  At  this 
point  father  rejoined  us,  to  share  in  mother's  amusement  and 
to  break  the  spell  for  us  by  pleasantly  addressing  the  negro, 
who  returned  a  respectful  answer,  accompanied  by  an  ample 
grin.  He  was  a  slave  on  the  widow's  plantation. 

Reassured  by  the  grin,  Will  offered  his  hand,  and  tasted  the 
joy  of  being  addressed  as  "  Massa  "  in  the  talk  that  followed. 
It  was  with  difficulty  that  we  prevailed  upon  ' '  Massa ' '  to 
come  to  supper. 

After  a  refreshing  night's  sleep  we  went  on  our  way,  and  in 
a  few  days  reached  my  uncle's  home.  A  rest  was  welcome,  a.'i 
the  journey  had  been  long  and  toilsome,  despite  the  fact  that 
it  had  been  enlivened  by  many  interesting  incidents  and 
thoroughly  enjoyed  by  all  of  the  family. 


CHAPTER  II. 


WILL'  S  FIRST  INDIAN — A  HORSE  TRADE  SPOILED — THE  GREAT 
OVERLAND  TRAIL — THE  KANSAS-NEBRASKA  BILL — THE 
HOME  IN  KANSAS — TWO  BABES,  A  DOG  AND  A  PANTHER 
— THE  FEARLESS  FIDELITY  OF  TURK — WILL  TO  THE 
RESCUE. 

Y  uncle's  home  was  in  Wes- 
ton,  Platte  County,  Missouri, 
at  that  time  the  large  city  of 
the  West.  As  father  was  de- 
sirous of  settling  again  as  soon 
as  possible,  he  left  us  at  Wes- 
ton,  and  after  resting  a  bit, 
himself  crossed  the  Missouri 
River  on  a  prospecting  tour, 
accompanied  by  Will  and  a 
guide.  More  than  one  day 
went  by  in  the  quest  for  a  de- 
sirable location,  and  one  morn- 
ing Will,  wearied  in  the  rec- 
onnaissance, and  not  yet  rested  from  our  former  journey,  was 
left  asleep  at  the  night's  camping-place,  while  father  and  the 
guide  rode  away  to  the  day's  exploring. 

When  Will  opened  his  eyes  they  fell  upon  the  most  interest- 
ing object  that  the  world  just  then  could  offer  him — an  Indian  ! 
The  "  noble  red  man,"  as  he  has  been  poetically  termed  by 
people  who  have  but  known  him  from  afar,  was  in  the  act  of 
mounting  Will's  horse,  while  near  by  stood  his  own,  a  miser- 
able, scrawny  beast. 

7 


8  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT  SCOUTS. 

Will's  boyish  dreams  were  now  a  reality  ;  lie  looked  upon 
his  first  Indian.  Here,  too,  was  a  "buck";  not  a  graceful, 
vanishing  deer,  but  a  dirty  redskin  who  seemingly  was  in  some 
hurry  to  begone.  Without  a  trace  of  "buck  fever,"  Will 
jumped  up,  rifle  in  hand,  and  demanded  : 

"  Here,  what  are  you  doing  with  my  horse?" 

The  Indian  regarded  the  lad  with  contemptuous  composure, 

"  Me  swap  horses  with  pale-face  boy,"  said  he. 

The  red  man  was  fully  armed,  and  Will  did  not  know  whether 
his  father  and  the  guide  were  within  call  or  not  ;  but  to  suffer 
the  Indian  to  ride  away  with  Uncle  Elijah's  fine  horse  was  to 
forfeit  his  father's  confidence  and  to  shake  his  mother's  and 
sisters'  belief  in  the  family  hero,  so  he  put  a  bold  face  upon 
the  matter,  and  remarked  carelessly,  as  if  discussing  a  genuine 
transaction  : 

"No;  I  won't  swap." 

"  Pale-face  boy  fool  !"  returned  the  Indian,  serenely. 

Now  this  was  scarcely  the  main  point  at  issue,  so  Will  con- 
tented himself  with  replying  quietly  but  firmly  : 

"  You  cannot  take  my  horse." 

The  Indian  condescended  to  temporize.  ' '  Pale- face  horse 
no  good,"  said  he. 

"Good  enough  for  me,"  replied  Will,  smiling  despite  the 
gravity  of  the  situation.  The  Indian  shone  rather  as  a  liar 
than  a  judge  of  horse-flesh.  "  Good  enough  for  me  ;  so  you 
can  take  your  old  rack  of  bones  and  go. ' ' 

Much  to  Will's  surprise,  the  red  man  dropped  the  rein,  flung 
himself  upon  .his  own  pony,  and  made  off.  And  down  fell 
4  *  I,o  the  poor  Indian  ' '  from  the  exalted  niche  that  he  had 
filled  in  Will's  esteem,  for  while  it  was  bad  in  a  copper  hero 
to  steal  horses,  it  was  worse  to  flee  from  a  boy  not  yet  in  his 
teens.  But  a  few  moments  later  L,o  went  back  to  his  lofty 
niche,  for  Will  heard  the  guide's  voice,  and  realized  that  it 
was  the  sight  of  a  man,  and  not  the  threats  of  a  boy,  that  had 
sent  the  Indian  about  his  business— if  he  had  any. 

After  a  search  of  nearly  a  week  father  had  come  upon  a  spot 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  9 

that  seemed  to  him  almost  ail  earthly  paradise,  and  to  fetch 
Will  to  it  was  the  errand  of  the  guide. 

There  were  at  this  time  two  great  highways  of  Western 
travel ;  later  the  Oregon  Trail  came  into  prominence.  The  old 
historic  route,  known  as  the  Santa  Fe  Trail,  was  the  route  fol- 
lowed by  explorers  three  hundred  years  ago.  It  had  been  used 
by  Indian  tribes  from  time,  to  white  men,  immemorial.  At 
the  beginning  of  this  century  it  was  first  used  as  an  artery  of 
commerce.  Over  it  Zebulon  Pike  made  his  well-known  Western 
trip,  and  from  it  radiated  his  explorations.  The  trail  lay 
some  distance  south  of  Leavenworth.  It  ran  westward,  dip- 
ping slightly  to  the  south  until  the  Arkansas  River  was 
reached ;  then  following  the  course  of  this  stream  to  Bent's 
Fort,  it  crossed  the  river  and  turned  sharply  to  the  south.  It 
went  through  Raton  Pass,  and  below  Las  Vegas  it  turned  west 
to  Santa  Fe. 

Exploration  along  the  line  of  the  Salt  Lake  Trail  began  also 
with  this  century.  It  became  a  beaten  highway  at  the  time  of 
the  Mormon  exodus  from  Nauvoo  to  their  present  place  of 
abode.  The  trail  crossed  the  Missouri  River  at  Leavenworth, 
and  ran  northerly  to  the  Platte,  touching  that  stream  at  Fort 
Kearney.  With  a  few  variations  it  paralleled  the  Platte  to  its 
junction  with  the  Sweetwater,  and  left  this  river  valley  to  run 
through  South  Pass  to  big  Sandy  Creek,  turning  south  to  fol- 
low this  little  stream.  At  Fort  Bridger  it  turned  westward 
again,  passed  Echo  Canon,  and,  a  few  miles  farther  on,  ran 
into  Salt  Lake  City.  Over  this  trail  journeyed  thousands  of 
gold-hunters  toward  California,  hopeful  and  high-spirited  on 
the  westerly  way ,  disappointed  and  depressed,  the  large  majority 
of  them,  on  the  back  track.  Freighting  outfits,  cattle  trains, 
emigrants — nearly  all  the  western  travel — followed  this  track 
across  the  new  land.  A  man  named  Rively,  with  the  gift  of 
grasping  the  advantage  of  location,  had  obtained  permission  to 
establish  a  trading  post  on  this  trail  three  miles  beyond  the 
Missouri,  and  as  proximity  to  this  depot  of  supplies  was  a 
manifest  convenience,  father  selected  a  claim  two  miles  dis- 


10  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

tant,  in  the  picturesque  Salt  Creek  Valley,  now  in  Leaven- 
worth  County,  Kansas. 

The  Kansas- Nebraska  Bill,  which  provided  for  the  organiz- 
ing of  those  two  territories  and  opened  them  for  settlement, 
was  passed  in  May,  1854.  This  bill  directly  opposed  the 
Missouri  Compromise,  which  restricted  slavery  to  all  territory 
south  of  36°  30"  north  latitude.  A  clause  in  the  new  bill  pro- 
vided that  the  settlers  should  decide  for  themselves  whether 
the  new  territories  were  to  be  free  or  slave  states.  Already 
hundreds  of  settlers  were  camped  upon  the  banks  of  the  Mis- 
souri, waiting  the  passage  of  the  bill  before  entering  and 
acquiring  possession  of  the  land.  Across  the  curtain  of  the 
night  ran  a  broad  ribbon  of  dancing  camp-fires,  stretching  for 
miles  along  the  bank  of  the  river. 

None  too  soon  had  father  fixed  upon  his  claim ;  the  act 
allowing  settlers  to  enter  was  passed  in  less  than  a  week  after- 
ward. Besides  the  pioneers  intending  actual  settlement,  a 
great  rush  was  made  into  the  territories  by  members  of  both 
political  parties.  These  became  the  gladiators,  with  Kansas 
the  arena,  for  a  bitter,  bloody  contest  between  those  desiring 
and  those  opposing  the  extension  of  slave  territory. 

Having  already  decided  upon  his  location,  father  was  among 
the  first,  after  the  bill  was  passed,  to  file  a  claim  and  procure 
the  necessary  papers,  and  shortly  he  had  a  transient  abiding 
place  prepared  for  us.  Whatever  mother  may  have  thought  of 
the  one-roomed  cabin,  whose  chinks  let  in  the  sun  by  day  and 
the  moon  and  stars  by  night,  and  whose  carpet  was  Nature's 
greenest  velvet,  life  in  it  was  a  perennial  picnic  for  the  children. 
Meantime  father  was  at  work  on  our  permanent  home,  and 
before  the  summer  fled  we  were  domiciled  in  a  large  double- 
log  house — rough  and  primitive,  but  solid  and  comfort- 
breeding. 

This  same  autumn  held  an  episode  so  deeply  graven  in  my 
memory  that  time  has  not  blurred  a  line  of  it.  Jane,  our 
faithful  maid-of-all-work,  who  went  with  us  to  our  Western 
home,  had  little  time  to  play  the  governess.  Household 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  II 

duties  claimed  her  every  waking  hour,  as  mother  was  delicate, 
and  the  family  a  large  one,  so  Turk  officiated  as  both  guar- 
dian and  playmate  of  the  children. 

One  golden  September  day  Eliza  and  I  set  out  after  wild 
flowers,  accompanied  by  Turk  and  mother's  caution  not  to 
stray  too  far,  as  wild  beasts,  'twas  said,  lurked  in  the  neigh- 
boring forest ;  but  the  prettiest  flowers  were  always  just 
beyond,  and  we  wandered  afield  until  we  reached  a  fringe  of 
timber  half  a  mile  from  the  house,  where  we  tarried  under  the 
trees.  Meantime  mother  grew  alarmed,  and  Will  was  dis- 
patched after  the  absent  tots. 

Turk,  as  we  recalled,  had  sought  to  put  a  check  upon  our 
wanderings,  and  when  we  entered  the  woods  his  restlessness 
increased.  Suddenly  he  began  to  paw  up  the  carpet  of  dry 
leaves,  and  a  few  moments  later  the  shrill  scream  of  a  panther 
echoed  through  the  forest  aisles. 

Eliza  was  barely  six  years  old,  and  I  was  not  yet  four.  We 
clung  to  each  other  in  voiceless  terror.  Then  from  afar  came 
a  familiar  whistle — Will's  call  to  his  dog.  That  heartened 
us,  babes  as  we  were,  for  was  not  our  brother  our  reliance  in 
every  emergency  ?  Rescue  was  at  hand ;  but  Turk  continued 
tearing  up  the  leaves,  after  signaling  his  master  with  a  loud 
bark.  Then,  pulling  at  our  dresses,  he  indicated  the  refuge 
he  had  dug  for  us.  Here  we  lay  down  and  the  dog  covered 
us  with  the  leaves,  dragging  to  the  heap,  as  a  further  screen, 
a  large  dead  branch.  Then,  with  the  heart  of  a  lion,  he  put 
himself  on  guard. 

From  our  leafy  covert  we  could  see  the  panther's  tawny 
form  come  gliding  through  the  brush.  He  saw  Turk  and 
crouched  for  a  spring.  This  came  as  an  arrow,  but  Turk 
dodged  it ;  and  then,  with  a  scream  such  as  I  never  heard 
from  dog  before  or  since,  our  defender  hurled  himself  upon 
the  foe. 

Turk  was  powerful  and  his  courage  was  flawless,  but  he 
was  no  match  for  the  panther:  in  a  few  moments  the  faithful 
dog  lay  stunned  and  bleeding  from  one  stroke  of  the  forest- 


12  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

rover's  steel-shod  paw.  The  cruel  beast  had  scented  other 
prey,  and  dismissing  Turk,  he  paced  to  and  fro,  seeking  to 
locate  us.  We  scarce  dared  to  breathe,  and  every  throb  of 
our  frightened  little  hearts  was  a  prayer  that  Will  would  come 
to  us  in  time. 

At  last  the  panther's  roving  eyes  rested  upon  our  inadequate 
hiding  place,  and  as  he  crouched  for  the  deadly  leap  we  hid 
our  faces. 

The  helpless,  hopeless  ordeal  of  agony  was  broken  by  a 
rifle's  sharp  report.  The  panther  fell,  shot  through  his  savage 
heart,  and  out  from  the  screen  of  leaves  rushed  two  sobbing, 
hysterical  little  girls  with  pallid  faces  drowned  in  tears,  who 
clung  about  a  brother's  neck  and  were  shielded  in  his  arms. 

Will,  himself  but  a  child,  caressed  and  soothed  us  in  a  most 
paternal  fashion ;  and  when  the  storm  of  sobs  was  passed  we 
turned  to  Turk.  Happily  his  injuries  were  slight,  and  he  had 
recovered  consciousness  when  his  master  reached  him. 

" Bravo!  Good  dog!"  cried  Will.  "You  saved  them,  Turk! 
You  saved  them!  "  And  kneeling  beside  our  faithful  friend, 
he  put  his  arms  about  the  shaggy  neck. 

Dear  old  Turk !  If  there  be  a  land  beyond  the  sky  for  such 
as  thou,  may  the  snuggest  corner  and  best  of  bones  be  thy 
reward! 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    SHADOW    OF    PARTISAN    STRIFE — FATHER'S     POLITICAL 
STANDING — THE  MEETING  AT  RIVELY'S — FATHER  AVOWS 

HIS  FREE  STATE  SYMPATHIES  AND  IS  STRUCK  DOWN — 
BEGINNING  OF  THE  PERSECUTION — RUFFIAN  VISITORS — 
THE  FLIGHT  TO  DONIPHAN— COL.  JIM  LANE  AND  HIS 

BAND  OF  AVENGERS — FATHER'S  RETURN. 

WING  to  the  conditions  under 
which  Kansas  was  settled,  al- 
ready spoken  of,  all  classes 
were  represented  in  its  popu- 
lation. Honest,  thrifty  farm- 
ers and  well-to-do  traders  leav- 
ened a  lump  of  shiftless  ne'er- 
do-wells,  lawless  adventurers 
and  vagabonds  of  all  sorts  and 
conditions.  If  father  at  times 
questioned  the  wisdom  of  the 
step  that  took  us  to  this  new 
and  untried  land,  he  kept  his 
own  counsel,  and  set  a  brave 
face  against  the  future. 

He  had  stood  prominent  in  political  circles  in  Iowa,  and  had 
filled  positions  of  public  trust ;  but  he  had  no  wish  to  become 
involved  in  the  partisan  strife  that  raged  in  Kansas.  He  was 
a  Free  Soil  man,  and  there  were  but  two  others  in  that  section 
that  did  not  believe  in  slavery.  For  a  year  he  kept  his  opin- 
ions to  himself,  but  it  became  rumored  about  that  he  was  an 
able  public  speaker,  and  the  Pro-Slavery  men  naturally  ascribed 
to  him  the  same  opinions  as  those  held  by  his  brother  Elijah, 

13 


14  I* AST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

a  pronounced  Pro-Slavery  man ;  so  they  regarded  father  as  a 
promising  leader  in  their  cause.  He  had  avoided  the  issue, 
and  had  skilfully  contrived  to  escape  declaring  for  one  side  or 
the  other,  but  on  the  scroll  of  his  destiny  it  was  written  that 
he  should  be  one  of  the  first  victims  offered  on  the  sacrificial 
altar  Of  the  struggle  for  human  liberty. 

Rively's  store  was  a  popular  rendezvous  for  all  the  settlers 
round.  It  was  a  day  in  the  summer  of  '55  that  father  visited 
the  store,  accompanied,  as  usual,  by  Will  and  Turk.  Among 
the  crowd,  which  was  large  and  noisy  with  excitement,  he 
noted  a  number  of  desperadoes  in  the  Pro-Slavery  faction,  and 
noted,  too,  that  Uncle  Elijah  and  our  two  Free  Soil  neighbors, 
Mr.  Hathaway  and  Mr.  L,awrence,  were  present. 

Father's  appearance  was  greeted  by  a  clamor  for  a  speech; 
but  to  speak  before  that  audience  was  to  take  his  life  in  his 
hands  ;  yet  in  spite  of  his  excuses  he  was  forced  to  the  chair. 

It  was  written  !  There  was  no  escape !  Father  walked 
steadily  to  the  dry  goods  box  which  served  as  a  rostrum.  As 
he  passed  Mr.  Hathaway  the  good  old  man  plucked  him  by 
the  sleeve  and  begged  him  to  serve  out  platitudes  to  the  crowd, 
and  to  screen  his  real  sentiments. 

But  father  was  not  a  man  that  dealt  in  platitudes. 

"Friends,"  said  he,  quietly,  as  he  faced  his  audience  and 
drew  himself  to  his  full  height,  *'  friends,  you  are  mistaken  in 
your  man.  I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  you.  I  have  no  wish  to 
quarrel  with  you.  But  you  have  forced  me  to  speak,  and  I  can 
|  do  no  less  than  declare  my  real  convictions.  I  am,  and  always 
j  have  been,  opposed  to  slavery.  It  is  an  institution  that  not  only 
degrades  the  slave,  but  brutalizes  the  slave-holder,  and  I  pledge 
you  my  word  that  I  shall  use  my  best  endeavors — yes,  that  I 
shall  lay  down  my  life,  if  need  be — to  keep  this  curse  from 
finding  lodgment  upon  Kansas  soil.  It  is  enough  that  the  fair- 
est portions  of  our  land  are  already  infected  with  this  blight. 
May  it  spread  no  farther.  All  my  energy  and  my  ability  shall 
swell  the  effort  to  bring  in  Kansas  as  a  Free  Soil  State. ' ' 

Up  to  this  point  the  crowd  had  been  so  dumbfounded  by  his 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  15 

temerity  that  they  kept  an  astonished  silence.  Now  the  storm 
broke.  The  rumble  of  angry  voices  swelled  into  a  roar  of  fury. 
An  angry  mob  surrounded  the  speaker ;  ere  men  could  inter- 
fere, several  desperadoes  leaped  forward,  and  one,  Charles 
Dunn  by  name,  drove  his  knife  to  the  hilt  into  the  body  of  the 
brave  man  who  dared  thus  openly  to  avow  his  principles. 

As  father  fell  Will  sprang  to  him,  and  turning  to  the  mur- 
derous assailant,  cried  out  in  boyhood's  fury  : 

"You  have  killed  my  father!  When  I'm  a  man  I'll  kill 
you  for  it  !" 

The  crowd  slunk  away,  believing  father  dead.  The  deed 
appalled  them  ;  they  were  not  yet  hardened  to  the  lawlessness 
that  was  so  soon  to  put  the  state  to  blush. 

Uncle  Elijah,  Rively,  Mr.  Hathaway,  Mr.  Lawrence  and 
Will  remained,  and,  finding  father  still  alive,  they  planned  to 
shield  him  for  the  moment,  and  later  bear  him  home.  First 
the  muttering  crowd  must  be  dispersed,  and  Rively  went  out  to 
rate  them  soundly  for  casting  the  odium  of  murder  upon  his 
store.  ."You've  done  mischief  enough  for  one  day,"  he  cried 
angrily,  "  go  home  !" 

And  they  went,  but  so  slowly  that  dusk  came  on  before  the 
coast  was  clear.  Father's  wounds  had  been  staunched,  but 
with  the  effort  to  move  the  blood  flowed  afresh.  Mr.  Hath- 
away and  Will  helped  him  to  a  hiding-place  in  the  long  grass 
by  the  wa}^side,  and  while  the  former  went  on  to  inform 
mother,  Will  and  Turk  remained  to  guard  and  cheer.  Slowly 
and  painfully  the  wounded  man  dragged  himself  homeward 
through  the  grass,  marking  his  tortured  progress  with  a  trail 
of  blood. 

It  was  such  wild  scenes  as  these  that  left  their  impress  on 
the  youth  and  fashioned  the  Cody  of  the  later  years — cool  in 
emergency,  fertile  in  resource,  swift  in  decision,  dashing  and 
intrepid  when  the  time  for  action  came. 

Our  troubles,  alas!  were  but  begun.  Father  had  lost  much 
blood,  and  his  convalescence  was  long  and  tedious ;  he  never 
recovered  fully.  His  enemies  believed  him  dead,  and  for  a 


1 6  LAST  OF  THE    GREAT   SCOUTS. 

while  we  kept  the  secret  guarded  ;  but  as  soon  as  he  was  able 
to  be  about  persecution  began. 

About  a  month  after  the  tragedy  at  Rively's  Will  ran  in  one 
evening  with  the  warning  that  a  band  of  horsemen  were 
approaching.  Suspecting  trouble,  mother  put  some  of  her 
own  clothes  about  father,  gave  him  a  pail,  and  bade  him  hide 
in  the  cornfield.  He  walked  boldly  from  the  house  and 
sheltered  by  the  gathering  dusk,  succeeded  in  passing  the 
horsemen  unchallenged.  The  latter  rode  up  to  the  house  and 
dismounted. 

"Where's  Cody?"  asked  the  leader.  He  was  informed 
that  father  was  not  at  home. 

"I^ucky  for  him!"  was  the  frankly  brutal  rejoinder. 
"  We'll  make  sure  work  of  the  killing  next  time." 

Disappointed  in  their  main  intention,  the  marauders 
revenged  themselves  in  their  own  peculiar  way  by  looting  the 
house  of  every  article  that  took  their  fancy  ;  then  they  sat 
down  with  the  announced  purpose  of  waiting  the  return  of 
their  prospective  victim. 

Fearing  the  effect  of  the  night  air  upon  father,  though  it  was 
yet  summer,  mother  made  a  sign  to  Will,  who  slipped  from  the 
room  and  guided  by  Turk,  carried  blankets  to  the  cornfield, 
returning  before  his  absence  had  been  remarked.  The  ruffians 
soon  tired  of  waiting  and  rode  away,  after  warning  mother  of 
the  brave  deed  they  purposed  to  perform.  Father  came  in  for 
the  night,  returning  to  his  covert  with  the  dawn. 

In  expectation  of  some  such  raid,  we  had  secreted  a  good 
stock  of  provisions  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  day  was  up  Will  was 
dispatched  to  Rively's  store  to  reconnoiter,  under  pretext  of 
buying  groceries.  Keeping  eyes  and  ears  open,  he  learned 
that  father's  enemies  were  on  the  watch  for  him,  so  the  corn- 
field must  remain  his  screen.  After  several  days  the  exposure 
and  anxiety  told  on  his  strength.  He  decided  to  leave  home 
and  go  to  Fort  L,eavenworth,  four  miles  distant.  When  night 
fell  he  returned  to  the  house,  packed  a  few  needed  articles, 
9.nd  bade  us  farewell.  Will  urged  that  he  ride  Prince,  but  he 


LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  17 

regarded  his  journey  as  safer  afoot.  It  was  a  sad  parting. 
None  of  us  knew  whether  we  should  see  our  father  again. 

"  I  hope,"  he  said  to  mother,  "  that  these  clouds  will  soon 
pass  away,  and  that  we  may  have  a  happy  home  once  more." 
Then,  placing  his  hands  on  Will's  head,  "You  will  have  to  be 
the  man  of  the  house  until  my  return,"  he  said.  "But  I 
know  I  can  trust  my  boy  to  watch  over  his  mother  and 
sisters. ' ' 

With  such  responsibilities  placed  upon  his  shoulders,  such 
confidence  reposed  in  him,  small  wonder  that  Will  should  grow 
a  man  in  thought  and  feeling  before  he  grew  to  be  one  in  years. 

Father  reached  Fort  L,eavenworth  in  safety,  but  the  quarrel 
betwixt  the  Pro-Slavery  Party  and  the  Free  Soilers  waxed 
more  bitter,  and  he  decided  that  security  Jay  farther  on,  so  he 
took  passage  on  an  up-river  boat  to  Doniphan,  twenty  miles 
distant.  This  was  a  mere  landing-place,  but  he  found  a  small 
band  of  men  in  camp  cooking  supper.  They  were  part  of  Col. 
Jim  pane's  command,  some  three  hundred  strong,  on  their 
way  west  from  Indiana. 

Colonel  Lane  was  an  interesting  character.  He  had  been  a 
friend  to  Elijah  L,ovejoy,  who  was  killed  in  1836  for  maintain- 
ing an  Anti-Slavery  newspaper  in  Illinois.  The  Kansas  con- 
test speedily  developed  the  fact  that  the  actual  settlers  sent 
from  the  North  by  the  emigrant  aid  societies  would  enable  the 
Free  State  party  to  outnumber  the  ruffians  sent  in  by  the 
Southerners,  and  when  the  Pro-Slavery  men  were  driven  to 
substituting  bullets  for  ballots,  Colonel  I,ane  recruited  a  band 
of  hardy  men  to  protect  the  Anti-Slavery  settlers,  and  incident- 
ally to  avenge  the  murder  of  L,ovejoy. 

The  meeting  of  father  and  pane's  men  was  a  meeting  of 
friends,  and  he  chose  to  cast  his  lot  with  theirs.  Shortly  after- 
ward he  took  part  in  "The  Battle  of  Hickory  Point,"  in  which 
the  Pro-Slavery  men  were  defeated  with  heavy  loss,  and 
thenceforward  the  name  of  Jim  Lane  was  a  terror  to  the  lawless 
and  a  wall  of  protection  to  our  family. 

The  storm  and  stress  of  battle  had  drawn  heavily  on  what 


1 8  I, AST  OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

little  strength  was  left  to  father,  and  relying  for  safety  upon 
the  proximity  of  Colonel  Lane  and  his  men,  he  returned  to  us 
secretly  by  night,  and  was  at  once  prostrated  on  a  bed  of 
sickness. 

This  proved  a  serious  strain  upon  our  delicate  mother,  for 
during  father's  absence  a  little  brother  had  been  added  to  our 
home,  and  not  only  had  she,  in  addition  to  the  care  of  Baby 
Charlie,  the  nursing  of  a  sick  man,  but  she  was  constantly  har- 
assed by  apprehensions  for  his  safety. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


PERSECUTION  CONTINUES — THE  ADVENTURES  OF  MR.  SHARPE 
— A  NIGHT  ATTACK — OUTWITTED  BY  A  WOMAN — THE 
SAWMILL  AT  GRASSHOPPER  FALLS — WILL  TAKES  THE 
ROAD — THE  AMBUSH  AT  BIG  STRANGER'S  CREEK — A  RIDE 
TO  SAVE  A  FATHER'S  LIFE — THE  LE  COMPTON  LEGISLA- 
TURE— OHIO  EMIGRANTS — DEATH  OF  ISAAC  CODY. 

OTHER'S  fears  were  well 
grounded.  A  few  days  after 
father's  home-coming,  a  man 
named  Sharpe,  who  disgraced 
the  small  office  of  justice  of 
the  peace,  rode  up  to  our  house 
very  much  the  worse  for  liquor, 
and  informed  mother  that  his 
errand  was  to  ' '  search  the 
house  for  that  abolition  hus- 
band of  yours. "  As  a  prelimi- 
nary, the  intoxicated  ruffian 
demanded  something  to  eat, 
and  condescended  to  accept  an 

appetizing  supper,  which  mother,  with  a  show  of  hospitality, 

set  before  him. 

While  this  was  preparing,  the  amiable  Mr.  Sharpe  killed 

time  in  sharpening  his  bowie-knife  on  the  sole  of  his  shoe. 
"That,"  said  he  to  Will,  who  stood  watching  him,  "that's 

to  cut  the  heart  out  of  that  Free  State  father  of  yours  ! ' '    And 

he  tested  the  edge  with  brutally  suggestive  care. 

Will' s  comment  was  to  take  down  his  rifle  and  place  himself 

on    the   staircase    leading  up  to  father's  room.     There  was 


20  LAST    OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

trouble  in  that  quarter  for  Mr.  Sharpe,  if  he  attempted  to 
ascend  those  stairs. 

But  the  justice,  as  mother  surmised,  had  no  notion  that 
father  was  at  home,  else  he  would  not  have  come  alone.  He 
ate  heartily  of  the  supper,  which  Will  hoped  would  choke 
him,  and  passing  from  drowsiness  to  drunken  slumber,  soon 
tumbled  from  his  chair,  which  so  confused  him  that  he  forgot 
his  pretended  errand  and  shambled  out  of  the  house.  He  was 
not  so  drunk  that  he  could  not  tell  a  good  bit  of  horse-flesh,  and 
he  straightway  took  a  fancy  to  Prince,  the  pet  pony  of  the 
family.  An  unwritten  plank  in  the  platform  of  the  Pro-Slavery 
men  was  that  the  Free-Soil  party  had  no  rights  they  were 
bound  to  respect,  and  Sharpe  remarked  to  Will,  with  a  mali- 
cious grin  : 

"  That's  a  nice  pony  of  yours,  sonny.  Guess  I' 11  take  him 
along  with  me."  And  he  proceeded  to  exchange  the  saddle 
from  the  back  of  his  own  horse  to  that  of  Prince. 

"You  old  coward  !  "  muttered  Will,  bursting  with  wrath. 
"I'll  get  even  with  you  some  day." 

The  justice  was  a  tall,  burly  fellow,  and  he  cut  so  ridiculous 
a  figure  as  he  rode  away  on  Prince's  back,  his  heels  almost 
touching  the  ground,  that  Will  laughed  outright  as  he  thought 
of  a  plan  to  save  his  pony. 

A  shrill  whistle  brought  Turk  to  the  scene,  and  receiving 
his  cue,  the  dog  proceeded  to  give  Sharpe  a  very  bad  five 
minutes.  He  would  nip  at  one  of  the  dangling  legs,  spring 
back  out  of  reach  of  the  whip  with  a  triumphant  bark,  and 
repeat  the  performance  with  the  other  leg.  This  little  comedy 
had  a  delighted  spectator  in  Will,  who  had  followed  at  a  safe 
distance,  and  just  as  Sharpe  made  one  extra  effort  to  reach 
Turk  the  boy  whistled  a  signal  to  Prince,  who  responded  with 
a  bound  that  dumped  his  rider  in  the  dust  of  the  road .  Here 
Turk  stood  over  him  and  showed  his  teeth. 

"  Call  off  your  dog,  bub  !  "  the  justice  shouted  to  Will,"  and 
you  may  keep  your  little  sheep,  for  he's  no  good  anyway." 

<l  That's  a  bargain  !  "  cried  Will,  restored  to  good-humor  ; 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  21 

and  helping  the  vanquished  foe  upon  his  own  steed,  he  assured 
him  that  he  need  not  fear  Turk  so  long  as  he  kept  his  word. 
Sharpe  departed,  but  we  were  not  rid  of  him  for  long. 

About  a  fortnight  later  we  were  enjoying  an  evening  with 
father,  who  was  able  to  sit  up  for  a  few  hours,  though  not 
daring  to  show  himself  in  daylight.  He  was  seated  in  a  big 
arm-chair  before  the  open  fire,  with  his  family  gathered  round 
him;  by  his  side  our  frail,  beautiful  mother,  with  Baby 
Charlie  on  her  knee,  Martha  and  Julia,  with  their  sewing,  and 
Will,  back  of  mother's  chair,  tenderly  smoothing  the  hair  from 
her  brow,  while  he  related  spiritedly  some  new  escapade  of 
Turk's.  Suddenly  he  checked  his  narrative,  listened  for  a  space, 
and  announced  : 

"There  are  some  men  riding  on  the  road  toward  the  house. 
We'd  better  be  ready  for  trouble." 

Mother,  equal  to  every  emergency,  hurriedly  disposed  her 
slender  forces  for  defense.  Martha  and  Julia  were  directed  to 
help  father  to  bed,  and,  that  done,  to  repair  to  the  unfurnished 
front  room  above  stairs  ;  Will  was  instructed  to  call  the  hired 
man  and  Jane,  who  was  almost  as  large  and  quite  as  strong  as 
the  average  man,  while  baby  was  put  in  his  crib  and  left  in 
charge  of  Eliza.  Will,  the  hired  man  and  Jane  were  armed 
and  given  their  cue.  They  were  handy  with  their  weapons  in 
case  necessity  demanded  their  use;  but  mother  sought  to  win 
by  strategy,  if  possible.  She  bade  the  older  girls  don  heavy 
boots,  and  gave  them  further  instructions,  by  which  time 
the  horsemen  had  reached  the  gate.  Their  leader  was  the  re- 
doubtable Justice  Sharpe.  He  rode  up  to  the  door  and  rapped 
with  the  butt  of  his  riding- whip.  Mother  threw  up  the 
xvindow  overhead. 

"  Who's  there?  and  what  do  you  want?"  she  demanded. 

"  We  want  that  old  abolition  husband  of  yours  and,  dead  or 
ilive,  we  mean  to  have  him  !  " 

"All  right,  Mr.  Sharpe,"  was  the  steady  answer.  "I'll 
ask  Colonel  Lane  and  his  men  to  wait  on  you." 

The  hired  man,  who  had  served  in  the  Mexican  war,  here 


2  a  LAST  OK  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

gave  a  sharp  word  of  command,  which  was  responded  to  by 
trampling  of  heavy  boots  upon  the  bare  floor.  Then,  calling 
a  halt,  the  pretended  Colonel  I^ane  advanced  to  the  window 
and  shouted  to  the  horsemen  : 

"Set  foot  inside  that  gate  and  my  men  will  fire  on  you  !  " 

Sharpe,  an  arrant  coward,  had  retreated  at  the  first  sound 
of  a  man's  voice,  and  after  a  short  parley  with  his  nonplussed 
companions,  he  led  them  away — outwitted  by  a  woman. 

As  a  sort  of  consolation  prize,  Sharpe  again  made  off  with 
Prince;  but  Will's  sorrow  in  the  morning  was  short-lived,  for 
the  sagacious  little  creature  slipped  his  halter  and  came  frying 
home  before  the  forenoon  was  half  spent. 

After  this  experience  father  decided  that,  for  our  sake  as 
well  as  for  his  own,  he  must  again  leave  home,  and  as  soon  as 
he  recovered  a  measure  of  his  strength  he  went  to  Grasshopper 
Falls,  thirty-five  miles  west  of  Leavenworth.  Here  he  erected  a 
sawmill,  and  hoped  that  he  had  put  so  many  miles  between 
him  and  his  enemies  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  pursue  a 
peaceful  occupation.  He  made  us  occasional  visits,  so  timing 
his  journey  that  he  reached  home  after  nightfall,  and  left 
again  before  the  sun  was  up. 

One  day  when  we  were  looking  forward  to  one  of  these 
visits,  our  good  friend  Mr.  Hathaway  made  his  appearance, 
about  eleven  o'clock. 

"  It  is  too  bad  to  be  the  bearer  of  ill  tidings,"  said  he,  "  but 
the  news  of  your  husband's  expected  visit  has  been  noised 
about  in  some  way,  and  another  plot  to  kill  him  is  afoot.  Some 
of  his  enemies  are  camped  at  Big  Stranger's  Creek,  and  intend 
to  shoot  him  as  he  passes  there." 

Then  followed  a  long  and  anxious  consultation,  which  ended 
without  any  plan  of  rescue. 

All  of  which  had  been  overheard  by  Will,  who  was  confined 
to  his  bed  with  an  attack  of  ague.  In  him,  he  decided,  lay 
the  only  hope  for  his  father's  safety,  so,  dressing,  he  presented 
his  fever-flushed  face  to  mother.  As  he  held  out  a  handker- 
chief, "Tie  it  tight  around  my  head,  mother,"  said  he; 
"  then  it  won't  ache  so  hard." 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  23 

A  remonstrance  against  his  getting  out  of  bed  brought  out 
the  fact  that  he  contemplated  riding  to  Grasshopper  Falls  ! 

He  was  almost  too  weak  to  stand,  a  storm  threatened,  and 
thirty-five  miles  lay  between  him  and  father;  yet  he  was  not 
to  be  dissuaded  from  making  the  attempt  to  save  his  father. 
So  Julia  and  Martha  saddled  Prince  and  helped  the  ague- 
racked  courier  to  his  saddle. 

The  plunge  into  the  open  air  and  the  excitement  of  the  start 
encouraged  Will  to  believe  that  he  could  hold  out;  and  as  he 
settled  down  to  his  long,  hard  ride  he  reflected  that  it  was  not 
yet  noon  and  that  father  would  not  set  out  until  late  in  the 
day.  Prince  seemingly  discerned  that  something  extraordi- 
nary was  afoot,  and  swung  along  at  a  swift,  steady  gait. 

Big  Stranger's  Creek  cut  the  road  half  way  to  the  Falls, 
and  Will  approached  it  before  the  afternoon  was  half  gone. 
The  lowering  sky  darkened  the  highway,  and  he  hoped  to 
pass  the  ambush  unrecognized;  but  as  he  came  up  to  the 
stream  he  made  out  a  camp  and  campers,  one  of  whom  called 
out  carelessly  to  him  as  he  passed: 

"  Are  you  all  right  on  the  goose?  " — the  cant  phrase  of  the 
Pro-Slavery  men. 

"Never  rode  a  goose  in  my  life,  gentlemen,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  That's  Cody's  boy!  "  shouted  another  voice,  and  the  word 
"Halt!"  rang  out  just  as  Will  had  galloped  safely  past  the 
camp. 

Will's  answer  was  to  drive  the  spurs  into  Prince  and  dart 
ahead,  followed  by  a  rain  of  bullets.  He  was  now  well  out  of 
range  and  the  pony  still  strong  and  fleet. 

The  chase  was  on,  and  in  the  thrill  of  it  Will  forgot  his 
weakness.  A  new  strength  came  with  the  rush  of  air  and  the 
ring  of  hoofs,  and  "I'll  reach  the  Falls  in  time !"  was  his 
heartening  thought,  as  pursuer  and  pursued  sped  through  the 
forests,  clattered  over  bridges  and  worked  up  hill  and  down. 

Then  broke  the  long-impending  storm,  and  the  hard  road 
became  the  bed  of  a  muddy  stream.  The  pursuit  was  aban- 


24  LAST  OF   THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

doned,  and  this  stimulus  removed,  Will,  drenched  to  the  skin, 
felt  the  chills  and  weakness  coming  on  again.  It  was  an 
effort  to  keep  his  saddle,  but  he  set  his  teeth  firmly  in  his 
resolve  to  accomplish  his  self-imposed  task. 

At  last!  A  welcome  light  gleamed  between  the  crystal  bars 
of  the  rain,  and  Prince's  rider  toppled  from  his  saddle  into 
father's  arms. 

His  ride  was  longer  by  ten  miles  than  that  famous  gallop  of 
the  friend  of  his  after  years — Phil  Sheridan.  And,  like  Sheri- 
dan, he  reached  the  goal  in  time,  for  father  was  just  mounting 
his  horse. 

His  mission  accomplished,  Will  collapsed  and  was  put  to 
bed,  and  when  he  was  somewhat  recovered  father  started  with 
him  for  Topeka,  which  was  headquarters  for  the  Free  State 
party.  This  second  ride  proved  too  much  for  Will,  and  the 
effects  of  it  confined  him  to  his  bed  for  some  time. 

Father  acquainted  mother  of  their  safety,  and  explained  that 
he  had  gone  to  Topeka  because  he  feared  his  life  was  no  longer 
safe  at  Grasshopper  Falls. 

Party  strife  in  Kansas  was  now  at  its  height.  Thousands 
came  into  the  territory  from  adjacent  slave  states  simply  to 
vote,  and  the  Pro-Slavery  party  elected  a  legislature,  whose 
first  meeting  was  held  at  I,eCompton.  This  election  the  Free- 
Soilers  declared  illegal  because  of  fraudulent  voting,  and, 
assembling  at  Topeka  in  the  winter  of  1855-56,  they  framed  a 
constitution  excluding  slavery  and  organized  a  rival  govern- 
ment. Of  this  first  Free-Soil  Legislature  father  was  a 
member. 

Thenceforth  war  was  the  order  of  the  day,  and  in  the  fall  of 
1856  a  military  governor  was  appointed,  with  full  authority  to 
maintain  law  and  order  in  Kansas. 

Recognizing  the  good  work  effected  by  the  emigrant  aid  so- 
cieties, and  realizing  that  in  a  still  larger  Northern  emigration 
to  Kansas  lay  the  only  hope  of  its  admission  as  a  Free  State, 
father  in  the  spring  went  back  to  Ohio,  to  labor  for  the  salva- 
tion of  the  territory  he  had  chosen  for  his  home.  Here  his 


I, AST   OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  25 

natural  gift  of  oratory  had  free  play,  and  as  the  result  of  his 
work  on  the  stump  he  brought  back  to  Kansas  sixty  families, 
the  most  of  whom  settled  in  the  vicinity  of  Grasshopper  Falls, 
now  Valley  Falls. 

This  meant  busy  times  for  us,  for  with  that  magnificent  dis- 
regard for  practical  matters  that  characterizes  many  men  of 
otherwise  great  gifts,  father  had  invited  each  separate  family 
to  make  headquarters  at  his  home  until  other  arrangements 
could  be  perfected.  As  a  result  our  house  overflowed,  while 
the  land  about  us  was  dotted  with  tents,  but  these  melted  away 
as  one  by  one  the  families  selected  claims  and  put  up  cabins. 

Among  the  other  settlers  was  Judge  Delahay,  who  with  his 
family  located  at  Leaven  worth,  and  began  the  publishing  of 
the  first  abolition  newspaper  in  Kansas.  The  appointing  of  the 
military  governor  was  the  means  of  restoring  comparative 
tranquillity,  but  hundreds  of  outrages  were  committed  and  the 
judge  and  his  newspaper  came  in  for  a  share  of  suffering.  The 
printing  office  was  broken  into  and  the  type  and  press  thrown 
into  the  Missouri  River.  Undaunted,  the  judge  procured  a 
new  press  and  the  paper  continued. 

A  semi- quiet  now  reigned  in  the  territory  ;  father  resumed 
work  at  the  sawmill,  and  we  looked  forward  to  a  peaceful  home, 
enjoyed  by  a  united  family.  But  it  was  not  to  be.  The  knife 
wound  had  injured  father's  lung.  With  care  and  nursing  it 
might  have  healed,  but  constant  suffering  attended  on  the  life 
that  persecution  had  led  him,  and  in  the  spring  of  '57  he  again 
came  home  and  took  to  his  bed  for  the  last  time. 

All  that  could  be  done  was  done,  but  his  days  were  num- 
bered, and  after  a  very  short  illness  he  passed  away — one  of 
the  first  martyrs  in  the  cause  of  Kansas  freedom. 

The  land  of  his  adoption,  made  beautiful  by  God  and  dese- 
crated by  His  creature  man,  became  his  last,  long  resting- 
place.  His  remains  now  lie  on  Pilot  Knob,  which  overlooks 
the  beautiful  city  of  Leavenworth.  His  death  was  regretted 
even  by  his  enemies,  who  granted  a  tribute  of  respect  to  a 
man  that  had  been  upright  and  just  and  generous  to  friend 
and  foe. 


CHAPTER  V. 


AN  UNJUST  CLAIM — WILL  SIGNS  A  PLEDGE — THE  "  BOY  EX- 
TRAM  OF  THE  BULL-TRAIN—ATTACKED  BY  INDIANS— 
THE  FLIGHT  BY  THE  RIVER — WILL'S  FIRST  DEAD  INDIAN 
— ARRIVAL  AT  FORT  KEARNEY — THE  WRECK  OF  THE 
BULL-TRAIN. 

T  this  sorrowful  period  mother 
was  herself  almost  at  death's 
door  with  consumption,  but, 
far  from  sinking  under  the 
blow,  she  faced  the  new  con- 
ditions with  a  steadfast  calm, 
realizing  that,  should  she  too 
be  taken,  her  children  would 
be  left  without  a  protector,  at 
the  mercy  of  the  enemies  whose 
malignity  had  brought  their 
father  to  an  untimely  end. 
Her  indomitable  will  opposed 
her  bodily  weakness.  ' '  I  will 
not  die,"  she  told  herself,  "until  the  welfare  of  my  children 
is  assured."  She  was  needed,  for  our  persecution  continued. 
Scarce  was  the  funeral  over  when  a  trumped-up  claim  for  a 
thousand  dollars,  for  lumber  and  supplies,  was  entered  against 
our  estate.  Mother  knew  the  claim  was  fictitious,  as  all  the 
bills  had  been  settled,  but  the  business  had  been  transacted 
through  the  agency  of  Uncle  Elijah,  and  she  had  neglected  to 
retain  the  receipts.  In  those  bitter,  troublous  days  it  too  often 
happened  that  brother  turned  against  brother,  and  Elijah  re- 
tained his  fealty  to  his  party  at  the  expense  of  his  dead  broth- 
er's family. 
26 


LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  27 

This  fresh  affliction  but  added  fuel  to  the  flame  of  mother's 
energy.  Our  home  was  paid  for,  but  father's  business  had 
been  made  so  broken  and  irregular  that  our  financial  resources 
were  of  the  slenderest,  and  were  this  unjust  claim  for  a  thou- 
sand dollars  allowed  we  should  be  homeless. 

The  upshot  of  mother's  study  of  the  situation  was  :  <4  If  I 
had  the  ready  money  I  should  fight  the  claim." 

Echo,  in  the  person  of  Will,  now  eleven  years  old,  replied  : 
' '  You  fight  the  claim  and  I'  11  get  the  money. ' ' 

Mother  smiled,  but  Will  continued  : 

"  Russell,  Majors  &  Waddell  will  give  me  work.  Jim 
Willis  says  I  am  capable  of  filling  the  position  of  '  extra.'  If 
you'll  go  with  me  and  ask  Mr.  Majors  for  a  job  I'm  sure  he'll 
give  me  one. ' ' 

Russell,  Majors  &  Waddell  were  overland  freighters  and 
contractors,  with  headquarters  at  L,eavenworth.  To  Will's 
suggestion  mother  entered  a  demurrer,  but  finally  yielded 
before  his  brave  insistence.  Mr.  Majors  had  known  father 
and  was  more  than  willing  to  aid  us,  but  Will's  youth  was  an 
objection  not  lightly  overridden. 

"  What  can  a  boy  of  your  age  do  ?  "  he  asked  kindly. 

"  I  can  ride,  shoot  and  herd  cattle,"  said  Will ;  "  but  I'd 
rather  be  an  '  extra  '  on  one  of  your  trains." 

"But  that  is  a  man's  work,  and  is  dangerous  besides." 
Mr.  Majors  hesitated.  "  But  I'll  let  you  try  it  one  trip,  and 
if  you  do  a  man's  work  I'll  give  you  a  man's  pay." 

So  Will's  name  was  put  on  the  company  roll,  and  he  signed 
a  pledge  that  illustrates  better  than  a  description  the  character 
and  disposition  of  Mr.  Majors. 

"  I,  William  F.  Cody,"  it  read,  "  do  hereby  solemnly  swear, 
before  the  great  and  living  God,  that  during  my  engagement 
with,  and  while  I  am  in  the  employ  of,  Russell,  Majors  & 
Waddell,  I  will,  under  no  circumstances,  use  profane  lan- 
guage, that  I  will  not  quarrel  or  fight  with  any  other  employee 
of  the  firm,  and  that  in  every  respect  I  will  conduct  myself 
honestly,  be  faithful  to  my  duties,  and  so  direct  all  my  acts  as 


28  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

to  win  the  confidence  of  my  employers.     So  help  me  God  !" 

Mr.  Majors  employed  many  wild  and  reckless  men,  but  the 
language  of  the  pledge  penetrated  to  the  better  nature  of  them 
all.  They  endeavored,  with  varying  success,  to  live  up  to  its 
conditions,  although  most  of  them  held  that  driving  a  bull- 
team  constituted  extenuating  circumstances  for  an  occasional 
expletive. 

The  pledge  lightened  mother's  heart ;  she  knew  that  Will 
would  keep  his  word  ;  she  felt,  too,  that  a  man  that  required 
such  a  pledge  of  his  employees  was  worthy  of  their  confidence 
and  esteem. 

The  train  was  to  start  in  a  day,  and  all  of  us  were  busy  with 
the  preparations  for  a  two  months'  trip.  The  moment  of 
parting  came,  and  it  was  a  tearful  one  for  mother,  so  recently 
bereft  of  husband.  Will  sought  to  soothe  her,  but  the 
younger  sisters  had  better  success,  for  with  tears  in  our  eyes 
we  crowded  about  him  and  implored  him  to  "  run  if  he  saw 
any  Indians." 

'Tis  but  a  step  from  tears  to  smiles  ;  the  situation  was  re- 
lieved, and  Will  launched  his  life  bark  amid  adieus  of  hope  and 
confidence  and  love.  His  fortitude  lasted  only  till  he  was  out 
of  sight  of  the  house  ;  but  youth  is  elastic,  and  the  plains  lay 
before  him,  and  mother  and  sisters  were  to  be  helped,  and  he 
presented  a  cheerful  face  to  his  employers. 

That  night  the  bed  of  the  ' '  boy  extra ' '  was  a  blanket 
under  a  wagon,  but  he  slept  soundly,  and  was  ready  when  the 
train  started  with  the  dawn. 

The  * '  bull-train  ' '  took  its  name  from  the  fact  that  each  of 
the  thirty-five  wagons  making  up  a  full  train  was  hauled  by 
several  yoke  of  oxen  driven  by  one  man,  known  as  a  bull- 
whacker.  This  functionary's  whip  cracked  like  a  rifle,  and 
could  be  heard  about  as  far.  The  wagons  resembled  the 
ordinary  prairie  schooner,  but  were  larger  and  more  strongly 
built ;  they  were  protected  from  the  weather  by  a  double  cover- 
ing of  heavy  canvas,  and  had  a  freight  capacity  of  seven  thou- 
sand pounds. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  29 

Besides  the  buliwh ackers  there  were  cavallard  drivers  (who 
cared  for  the  loose  cattle),  night  herders  and  sundry  extra 
hands,  all  under  the  charge  of  a  chief  wagon-master,  termed 
the  wagon  boss,  his  lieutenants  being  the  boss  of  the  cattle 
train  and  the  assistant  wagon-master.  The  men  were  dis- 
posed in  messes,  each  mess  providing  its  own  wood  and  water, 
doing  its  own  cooking  and  washing  up  its  own  tin  dinner  ser- 
vice, while  one  man  in  each  division  stood  guard.  Special 
duties  were  assigned  to  the  "  extras,"  and  Will's  was  to  ride 
up  and  down  the  train  delivering  orders.  This  suited  his 
fancy  to  a  dot,  for  the  oxen  were  snail-gaited,  and  to  plod  at 
their  heels  was  dull  work.  Kipling  tells  us  it  is  quite  impos- 
sible to  "  hustle  the  East"  ;  it  were  as  easy,  as  Will  dis- 
covered, to  hustle  a  bull- train. 

From  the  outset  the  ' '  boy  extra ' '  was  a  favorite  with  the 
men.  They  liked  his  pluck  in  undertaking  such  work,  and 
when  it  was  seen  that  he  took  pride  in  executing  orders 
promptly,  he  became  a  favorite  with  the  bosses  as  well.  In 
part  his  work  was  play  to  him;  he  welcomed  an  order  as  a 
break  in  the  monotony  of  the  daily  march,  and  hailed  the 
opportunity  of  a  gallop  on  a  good  horse. 

The  world  of  Will's  fancy  was  bounded  by  the  hazy  riin 
where  plain  and  sky  converge,  and  when  the  first  day's  journey 
was  done  and  he  had  staked  out  and  cared  for  his  horse,  he 
watched  with  fascinated  eyes  the  strange  and  striking  picture 
limned  against  a  background  of  dark,  illimitable  prairie.  Every- 
thing was  animation;  the  bull  whackers  unhitching  and  dis- 
posing of  their  teams,  the  herders  staking  out  the  cattle,  and 
— not  the  least  interesting — the  mess  cooks  preparing  the 
evening  meal  at  the  crackling  campfires. 

But  life  on  the  plains  is  not  all  a  supper  under  the  stars 
when  the  sparks  fly  upward;  it  has  its  hardships  and  privations. 
There  were  days,  as  the  wagons  dragged  their  slow  lengths 
along,  when  the  clouds  obscured  the  sky  and  the  wind  whis- 
tled dismally;  days  when  torrents  fell  and  swelled  the  streams 
that  must  be  crossed,  and  when  the  mud  lay  ankle  deep;  days 


30  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUT 3. 

when  the  cattle  stampeded,  and  the  roundup  meant  long,  extra 
hours  of  heavy  work;  and,  hardest  but  most  needed  work  of 
all,  the  eternal  vigil  'gainst  an  Indian  attack. 

Will  did  not  share  the  anxiety  of  his  companions.  To  him 
a  brush  with  Indians  would  prove  that  boyhood's  dreams 
sometimes  come  true,  and  in  imagination  he  anticipated  the 
glory  of  a  first  encounter  with  the  ' '  noble  red  man ' '  after  the 
fashion  of  the  heroes  in  the  hair-lifting  Western  tales  he  had 
read.  He  was  soon  to  learn,  as  many  another  has  learned, 
that  the  Indian  of  real  life  is  vastly  different  from  the  Indian 
of  fiction.  He  refuses  to  "bite  the  dust"  at  sight  of  a  pale- 
face, and  a  dozen  of  them  have  been  known  to  hold  their  own 
against  as  many  white  men. 

Some  twenty  miles  west  of  Fort  Kearney  a  halt  was  made 
for  dinner  at  the  bank  of  a  creek  that  emptied  into  the  Platte 
River.  No  signs  of  Indians  had  been  come  upon,  and  there 
was  no  thought  of  special  danger;  but,  as  was  the  custom, 
three  men  were  on  guard.  Many  of  the  trainmen  were  asleep 
under  the  wagons  while  waiting  dinner,  and  Will  was  watch- 
ing the  maneuvers  of  the  cook  in  his  mess.  Suddenly  a  score 
of  shots  rang  out  from  the  direction  of  a  neighboring  thicket, 
succeeded  by  a  chorus  of  blood-chilling  yells. 

Will  saw  the  three  men  on  the  lookout  drop  in  their  tracks, 
and  saw  the  Indians  divide,  one  wing  stampeding  the  cattle, 
the  other  charging  down  upon  the  camp. 

The  trainmen  were  old  frontiersmen,  and,  although  taken 

i  wholly  by  surprise,  they  lined  up  swiftly  in  battle  array  be- 

1  hind  the  wagons,  with  the  bosses,  Bill  and  Frank  McCarthy, 

at  their  head,  and  the  "boy  extra"  under  the  wing  of  the 

wagon -master. 

A  well-placed  volley  of  rifle  balls  checked  the  Indians,  and 
they  wheeled  and  rode  away,  after  sending  in  a  scattering 
cloud  of  arrows,  which  wounded  several  of  the  trainmen.  The 
decision  of  a  hasty  council  of  war  was  that  a  defensive  stand 
would  be  useless,  as  the  Indians  outnumbered  the  whites  ten 
to  one,  and  red  reinforcements  were  constantly  coming  up, 


LAST  OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  31 

until  it  seemed  to  Will  as  if  the  prairie  were  alive  with  them. 
The  only  hope  of  safety  lay  in  the  shelter  of  the  creek's  high 
bank,  so  a  run  was  made  for  it.  The  Indians  charged  again, 
with  the  usual  infernal  accompaniment  of  whoops  and  yells 
and  flying  arrows,  but  the  trainmen  had  reached  the  creek, 
and  from  behind  its  natural  breastwork  maintained  a  rifle  fire 
that  drove  the  foe  back  out  of  range. 

To  follow  the  creek  and  river  to  Fort  Kearney  was  not 
accounted  much  of  a  chance  for  escape,  but  it  was  the  only 
avenue  that  lay  open,  so,  with  a  parting  volley  to  deceive  the 
besiegers  into  thinking  that  the  fort  was  still  held,  the  peril- 
ous and  difficult  journey  was  begun. 

The  Indians  quickly  penetrated  the  ruse,  and  another  charge 
had  to  be  repulsed.  Besides  the  tiresome  work  of  wading, 
there  were  wounded  men  to  help  along,  and  a  ceaseless  watch 
to  keep  against  another  rush  of  the  reds.  It  was  a  trying 
ordeal  for  a  man,  doubly  so  for  a  boy  like  Will,  but  he  was 
encouraged  to  coolness  and  endurance  by  a  few  words  from 
Frank  McCarthy,  who  remarked  admiringly:  "Well,  Billy, 
you  didn't  scare  worth  a  cent." 

After  a  few  miles  of  wading  the  little  party  debouched  upon 
the  Platte  River,  and  by  this  time  the  wounded  men  were  so 
exhausted  that  a  halt  was  called  to  improvise  a  raft.  On  this 
the  sufferers  were  placed  and  three  or  four  men  detailed 
to  shove  it  before  them.  In  consideration  of  his  youth, 
Will  was  urged  to  get  upon  the  raft,  but  he  declined, 
saying  that  he  was  not  wounded,  and  that  if  the  stream  got 
too  deep  for  him  to  wade  he  could  swim.  This  was  more  than 
some  of  the  men  could  do,  and  they  too  had  to  be  assisted 
over  the  deep  places. 

Thus  wore  the  long  and  weary  hours  away,  and  though  the 
men,  who  knew  how  hard  a  trip  it  was,  often  asked,  "  How 
goes  it,  Billy  ?  "  he  uttered  no  word  of  complaint. 

But  half  a  day's  wading,  without  rest  or  food,  gradually 
weighted  his  heels,  and  little  by  little  he  lagged  behind  his  com- 
panions. The  moon  came  out  and  silvered  tree  and  river,  but 


32  I*AST  OF  THE   GREAT   SCOUTS. 

the  silent,  plodding  band  had  no  eyes  for  the  glory  of  the 
landscape. 

Will  had  fallen  behind  some  twenty  rods,  but  in  a  moment 
fatigue  was  forgotten  and  the  blood  jumped  in  his  veins,  for 
just  ahead  of  him  the  moonlight  fell  upon  the  feathered  head- 
dress of  an  Indian  chief,  who  was  peering  over  the  bank. 
Motionless,  he  watched  the  head,  shoulders,  and  body  of  the 
brave  come  into  view.  The  Indian  supposed  the  entire  party 
ahead,  and  Will  made  no  move  until  the  savage  bent  his  bow. 

Then  he  realized,  with  a  thumping  heart,  that  death  must 
come  to  one  of  his  comrades  or  the  Indian . 

Even  in  direst  necessity  it  is  a  fearful  thing  to  deliberately 
take  a  human  life,  but  Will  had  no  time  for  hesitation. 
There  was  a  shot,  and  the  Indian  rolled  down  the  bank  into 
the  river. 

His  expiring  yell  was  answered  by  others.  The  reds  were 
not  far  away.  Frank  McCarthy,  missing  Will,  stationed  guards 
and  ran  back  to  look  for  him.  He  found  the  lad  hauling  the 
dead  warrior  ashore,  and  seizing  his  hand,  cried  out :  ' '  Well 
done,  my  boy ;  you've  killed  your  first  Indian,  and  done  it 
like  a  man  ! ' ' 

Will  wanted  to  stop  and  bury  the  body,  but  being  assured 
that  it  was  not  only  an  uncustomary  courtesy,  but  in  this  case 
quite  impossible,  he  hastened  on.  As  they  came  up  with  the 
waiting  group  McCarthy  called  out : 

"  Pards,  little  Billy  has  killed  his  first  redskin  !  " 

The  announcement  was  greeted  with  cheers,  which  grated 
on  Will's  ears,  for  his  heart  was  sick,  and  the  cheers  seemed 
strangely  out  of  place. 

little  time,  however,  was  afforded  for  sentiment  of  any  sort. 
Enraged  at  the  death  of  their  scout,  the  Indians  made  a  final 
charge,  which  was  repulsed  like  the  others,  and  after  this  Bill 
McCarthy  took  the  lead,  with  Frank  at  the  rear,  to  prevent 
further  straggling  of  the  forces. 

It  was  a  haggard-faced  band  that  came  up  to  Fort  Kearney 
with  the  dawn.  The  wounded  men  were  left  at  the  post,  while 


LAST  OF  THE   GREAT   SCOUTS.  33 

the  others  returned  to  the  wrecked  bull -train  under  escort  of 
a  body  of  troops.  They  hoped  to  make  some  salvage,  but  the 
cattle  had  either  been  driven  away  or  had  joined  one  of  the 
numerous  herds  of  buffalo,  the  wagons  and  their  freight  had 
been  burned,  and  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  bury  the  three 
pickets,  whose  scalped  and  mutilated  bodies  were  stretched 
where  they  had  fallen. 

Then  the  troops  and  trainmen  parted  company,  the  former 
to  undertake  a  bootless  quest  for  the  red  marauders,  the  latter 
to  return  to  I^eavenworth,  their  occupation  gone.  The  gov- 
ernment held  itself  responsible  for  the  depredations  of  its 
wards,  and  the  loss  of  the  wagons  and  cattle  was  assumed  at 
Washington. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE  LAWSUIT — LAWYER  DOUGLASS'S  PLEA — ARRIVAL  OP  THE 
MISSING  WITNESS — SISTER  MARTHA'S  WEDDING — THE 
GERM  OF  THE  WILD  WEST  SHOW — AN  EXPERIENCE  WITH 
HARD  CIDER — OFF  FOR  FORT  BRIDGER — RAIDED  BY 
DANITES — WINTER  QUARTERS  AND  SHORT  RATIONS. 

HE  fame  to  which  Byron  woke, 
one  historic  morning,  was  no 
more  unexpected  to  him  than 
that  which  now  greeted  un- 
assuming Will  with  warlike 
laurels.  The  trainmen  had 
not  been  over-modest  in  their 
accounts  of  his  pluck,  and 
when  a  newspaper  reporter 
lent  the  magic  of  his  gifted 
imagination  to  the  plain  nar- 
rative it  became  quite  a  story. 
"The  Boy  Indian  Slayer;" 
thus  ran  the  headlines.  "  'Tis 
pleasant,  sure,  to  see  one's  name  in  print." 

But  Will  was  speedily  concerned  with  other  than  his  own 
affairs,  for  as  soon  as  his  position  with  the  freighters  was 
assured  mother  engaged  a  lawyer  to  fight  the  claim  against 
our  estate.  This  legal  light  was  John  C.  Douglass,  then 
unknown,  unhonored  and  unsung,  but  talented  and  enterpris- 
ing notwithstanding.  He  had  just  settled  in  Leavenworth, 
and  he  could  scarcely  have  found  a  better  case  with  which  to 
storm  the  heights  of  fame — the  dead  father,  the  sick  mother, 
the  helpless  children  and  relentless  persecution,  in  one  scale; 
34 


I, AST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  35 

in  the  other  an  eleven-year-old  boy  doing  a  man's  work  to 
earn  the  money  needed  to  combat  the  family's  enemies. 
Douglass  put  his  whole  strength  into  the  case. 

He  knew  as  well  as  we  that  our  cause  was  weak ;  it  hung  by 
a  single  peg — a  missing  witness,  Mr.  Barnhart.  This  man 
had  acted  as  bookkeeper  when  the  bills  were  paid,  but  he  had 
been  sent  away,  and  the  prosecution — or  persecution — had 
thus  far  succeeded  in  keeping  his  whereabouts  a  secret.  To 
every  place  where  he  was  likely  to  be  Lawyer  Douglass  had 
written ;  but  we  were  as  much  in  the  dark  as  ever  when  the 
morning  for  the  trial  of  the  suit  arrived. 

The  case  had  excited  much  interest  and  the  court  room  was 
crowded,  many  persons  having  been  drawn  thither  by  a  curios- 
ity to  look  upon  '  'The  Boy  Indian  Slayer. ' '  There  was  a 
cheerful  unanimity  of  opinion  upon  the  utter  hopelessness  of 
the  Cody  side  of  the  case.  Not  only  were  prominent  and 
wealthy  men  arrayed  against  us,  but  our  young  and  inexperi- 
enced lawyer  faced  the  heaviest  legal  guns  of  the  Leavenworth 
bar.  Our  only  witnesses  were  a  frail  woman  and  a  girl  of 
eighteen,  though  by  their  side,  with  his  head  held  high,  was 
the  family  protector,  our  brave  young  brother.  Against  us 
were  might  and  malignity;  upon  our  side  right  and  the  high 
courage  with  which  Christianity  steels  the  soul  of  a  believer. 
Mother  had  faith  that  the  invisible  forces  of  the  universe  were 
fighting  for  our  cause. 

She  and  Martha  swore  to  the  fact  that  all  the  bills  had  been 
settled,  and  after  the  opposition  had  rested  its  case  Lawyer 
Douglass  arose  for  the  defense.  His  was  a  magnificent  plea 
for  the  rights  of  the  widow  and  the  orphan,  and  was  conceded 
to  be  one  of  the  finest  speeches  ever  heard  in  a  Kansas  court 
room;  but  though  all  were  moved  by  our  counsel's  eloquence — 
some  unto  tears  by  the  pathos  of  it — though  the  justice  of  our 
cause  was  freely  admitted  throughout  the  court  room,  our  best 
friends  feared  the  verdict. 

But  the  climax  was  as  stunning  to  our  enemies  as  it  was 
unexpected.  As  Lawyer  Douglass  finished  his  last  ringing 


36  LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

period  the  missing  witness,  Mr.  Barnhart,  hurried  into  the 
court  room.  He  had  started  for  Leaven  worth  upon  the  first 
intimation  that  his  presence  there  was  needed,  and  had 
reached  it  just  in  time.  He  took  the  stand,  swore  to  his  cer- 
tain knowledge  that  the  bills  in  question  had  been  paid,  and 
the  jury,  without  leaving  their  seats,  returned  a  verdict  for 
the  defense. 

Then  rose  cheer  upon  cheer,  as  our  friends  crowded  about 
us  and  offered  their  congratulations.  Our  home  was  saved, 
and  Lawyer  Douglass  had  won  a  reputation  for  eloquence  and 
sterling  worth  that  stood  undimmed  through  all  his  long  and 
prosperous  career. 

The  next  ripple  on  the  current  of  our  lives  was  sister  Mar- 
tha's wedding-day.  Possessed  of  remarkable  beauty,  she  had 
become  a  belle,  and  as  young  ladies  were  scarce  in  Kansas  at 
that  time,  she  was  the  toast  of  all  our  country  round.  But  her 
choice,  as  is  so  oft  unhappily  the  case,  had  fallen  on  a  man  un- 
worthy of  her.  Of  his  antecedents  we  knew  nothing  ;  of  his 
present  being  little  more,  save  that  he  was  fair  in  appearance 
and  seemingly  prosperous.  In  the  sanction  of  the  union  Will 
alone  had  stood  aloof.  Joined  to  a  native  intuition  were  the 
sharpened  faculties  of  a  lad  that  lived  beyond  his  years.  Almost 
unerring  in  his  insight,  he  disliked  the  object  of  our  sister's 
choice  so  cordially  that  he  refused  to  be  a  witness  of  the 
nuptials.  This  dislike  we  attributed  to  jealousy,  as  brother 
and  sister  worshipped  each  other,  but  the  sequel  proved  a  sad 
corroboration  of  his  views. 

Nature  seemed  to  join  her  protest  to  Will's  silent  antagon- 
ism. A  terrific  thunderstorm  came  up  with  the  noon  hour  of 
the  wedding.  So  deep  and  sullen  were  the  clouds  that  we 
were  obliged  to  light  the  candles,  the  fashionable  illuminant 
of  the  period.  And  when  the  wedding  pair  took  their  places 
before  Hymen's  altar,  a  crash  of  thunder  rocked  the  house 
and  set  the  casements  jingling. 

The  couple  had  their  home  awaiting  them  in  Leavenworth, 
and  departed  almost  immediately  after  the  ceremony. 


I, AST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  37 

That  reader  will  be  wrong  who  thinks  that  the  cares  and 
responsibilities  laid  upon  our  brother's  shoulders  had  quenched 
his  boyish  spirits  and  love  of  fun.  Ever  mindful  of  her  chil- 
dren's needs,  mother  had  set  aside  as  a  playroom  one  apart- 
ment in  the  large  log  house,  though  for  our  toys  we  were  com- 
pelled to  exert  our  ingenuity,  and  therefore  enjoyed  them  all 
the  more.  We  made  our  own  dolls,  fashioned  our  own  small 
furniture,  and  built  our  own  doll  mansions.  Will  was  a  great 
tease,  and  he  delighted  to  invade  the  playroom  when  the  dolls 
were  set  in  order  for  the  night,  and  play  havoc  with  our 
maternal  ideas  of  arrangement.  Some  greeted  the  morning 
light  in  kneeling  posture  by  the  bed,  others  stood  upon  their 
heads  in  most  dejected  attitudes,  still  others  stood  in  pugilistic 
poses.  Taken  to  task  for  these  indignities,  Will  would  flee  in 
seeming  fright,  and  hide  from  our  wrath.  It  was  in  this  play- 
room that  the  germ  of  his  Wild  West  Show  took  life. 

He  never  tired  of  enacting  scenes  of  frontier  life,  based  upon 
the  experience  of  his  first  freighting  trip.  We  girls  person- 
ated, first  one  and  then  another,  stage-drivers,  passengers, 
outlaws,  Indians  and  soldiers,  to  the  presumed  edification  of 
an  imaginary  audience.  In  these  performances  we  were  do- 
cility itself,  but  when  Will  informed  us  that  he  purposed  some 
day  organizing  a  big  show  that  should  enable  Kastern  folk  to 
appreciate  the  rugged  life  of  the  frontier,  we  laughed  at  him. 
No  one,  said  we,  would  care  to  witness  such  a  performance; 
besides,  there  was  his  destiny  in  the  way.  How  could  the 
President  of  the  United  States  run  a  show  ? 

' '  How  could  that  fortune-teller  know  what  I  am  going  to 
be ?"  Will  would  answer,  disdainfully.  "I  rather  guess  I  can 
have  a  show,  in  spite  of  all  the  fortune-tellers  in  the  country. 
I'll  tell  you  right  now,  girls,  I  don't  propose  to  be  President, 
but  I  do  mean  to  have  a  show  !" 

At  this  we  would  run  crying  to  mother.  Such  temerity  in 
disputing  one's  destiny  was  appalling  ;  and  though  our  ideas 
of  destiny  were  rather  vague,  we  could  grasp  one  dreadful  fact: 
Will  had  refused  to  be  President  of  the  United  States  ! 


38  LAST   OF  THE    GREAT    SCOUTS. 

"Don't  he  have  to  be?"  we  would  sob;  and  mother, 
smoothing  our  hair,  would  return  some  comforting  assurance. 

In  spite  of  Will's  fine  scorn  of  fortune-tellers,  the  prophecy 
concerning  his  future  must  have  been  often  in  his  mind.  This 
was  shown  in  an  episode  that  the  writer  is  in  duty  bound,  as  a 
veracious  chronicler,  to  set  down. 

Our  neighbor,  Mr.  Hathaway,  had  a  son,  Eugene,  of  about 
Will's  age,  and  the  pair  were  fast  friends.  One  day  when 
Will  was  visiting  at  Eugene's  house  the  boys  introduced 
themselves  to  a  barrel  of  hard  cider.  Temperance  sentiment 
had  not  progressed  far  enough  to  bring  hard  cider  under  the 
ban,  and  Mr.  Hathaway  had  lately  pressed  out  a  quantity  of 
the  old-fashioned  beverage.  The  boys,  supposing  it  a  harm- 
less drink,  took  all  they  desired — much  more  than  they  could 
carry.  They  were  in  a  deplorable  condition  when  Mr.  Hatha- 
way found  them  ;  and  much  distressed,  the  good  old  man  put 
Eugene  to  bed  and  brought  Will  home. 

The  family  hero  returned  to  us  with  a  flourish  of  trumpets. 
He  stood  up  in  the  wagon  and  sang  and  shouted  ;  and  when 
Mr.  Hathaway  reproved  him,  "  Don't  talk  to  me,"  was  his 
lofty  rejoinder.  "  You  forget  that  I  am  to  be  President  of  the 
United  States." 

There  is  compensation  for  everything.  Will  never  touched 
cider  again  ;  and  never  again  could  he  lord  it  over  his  still  ad- 
miring but  no  longer  docile  sisters.  If  he  undertook  to  boss  or 
tease  us  more  than  to  our  fancy,  we  would  subdue  him  with  an 
imitation  of  his  grandiloquent,  <(  You  forget  that  I  am  to  be 
President  of  the  United  States."  Indeed,  so  severe  was  this 
retaliation  that  we  seldom  saw  him  the  rest  of  the  day. 

Will  was  not  long  at  home.  The  Mormons,  who  were 
settled  in  Utah,  rebelled  when  the  government,  objecting  to 
the  quality  of  justice  meted  out  by  Brigham  Young,  sent  a 
federal  judge  to  the  territory.  Troops  under  the  command  of 
General  Albert  Sidney  Johnston  were  dispatched  to  quell  the 
insurrection,  and  Russell,  Majors  &  Waddell  contracted  to 
transport  stores  and  beef  cattle  to  the  army  massing  against 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT   SCOUTS.  39 

the  Mormons  in  the  fall  of  '57.  The  train  was  a  large  one, 
better  prepared  against  such  an  attack  as  routed  the  McCarthy 
brothers  earlier  in  the  summer  ;  yet  its  fate  was  the  same. 

Will  was  assigned  to  duty  as  "  extra  "  under  Lew  Simpson, 
an  experienced  wagon- master,  and  was  subject  to  his  orders 
only.  There  was  the  double  danger  of  Mormons  and  Indians, 
so  the  pay  was  good.  Forty  dollars  a  month  in  gold  looked 
like  a  large  sum  to  an  eleven-year-old. 

The  second  parting  with  the  dear  ones  at  home  was  as  poig- 
nant as  the  first.  We  girls,  as  before,  were  loud  in  our  wail- 
ings,  and  offered  to  forgive  him  the  depredations  in  the  doll- 
house  and  all  his  teasings,  if  only  he  would  not  go  away  and 
be  scalped  by  the  Indians.  Mother  said  little,  but  her  anxious 
look,  as  she  recalled  the  perils  of  the  former  trip,spoke  volumes. 
He  carried  with  him  the  memory  of  the  open-mouthed  admir- 
ation of  little  Charlie,  to  whom  "  Brother  Will"  was  the  great- 
est hero  in  the  world.  Perhaps  Turk's  grief  at  the  parting 
was  not  a  whit  behind  ours  ;  but  the  faithful  old  fellow  seemed 
to  realize  that  in  Will's  absence  the  duty  of  the  family  pro- 
tector devolved  on  him,  and  he  made  no  attempt  to  follow  Will 
beyond  the  gate. 

The  train  made  good  progress,  and  more  than  half  the  jour- 
ney to  Fort  Bridger  was  accomplished  without  a  setback. 
When  the  Rockies  were  reached  a  noon  halt  was  made  near 
Green  River,  and  here  the  men  were  surrounded  and  overcome 
by  a  large  force  of  Danites,  the  '  'Avenging  Angels"  of  the  Mor- 
mon Church,  who  had  "  stolen  the  livery  of  the  court  of  heaven 
to  serve  the  devil  in. "  These  were  responsible  for  the  atrocious 
Mountain  Meadow  Massacre  in  June  of  this  same  j*ear,  though 
the  wily  '  *  Saints  ' '  had  planned  to  place  the  odium  of  an  un- 
provoked murder  of  innocent  women  and  children  upon  the 
Indians,  who,  heaven  knows,  had  enough  to  answer  for,  and 
who,  in  this  instance,  were  but  the  tools  of  the  Mormon  Church. 
Brigham  Young  repudiated  his  accomplice  and  allowed  John 
D.  Lee  to  become  the  scapegoat.  The  dying  statement  of  this 
man  is  as  pathetic  as  Cardinal  Wolsey's  arraignment  cf 
Henry  VIII.  a  —* 


40  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT   SCOUTS. 

"A  victim  must  be  had,"  said  he,  "and  I  am  that  victim. 
For  thirty  years  I  studied  to  make  Brigham  Young's  will  my 
law.  See  now  what  I  have  come  to  this  day.  I  have  been 
sacrificed  in  a  cowardly,  dastardly  manner.  I  do  not  fear 
death.  I  cannot  go  to  a  worse  place  than  I  am  now  in. ' ' 

John  D.  I^ee  deserved  his  fate,  but  Brigham  Young  was  none 
the  less  a  coward. 

The  Danites  spared  the  lives  of  the  trainmen,  but  they  made 
sad  havoc  of  the  supplies  ;  these  they  knew  to  be  intended  for 
the  use  of  the  army  opposed  to  Brigham  Young.  They  carried 
off  all  the  stores  they  could  handle,  drove  with  them  or  stam- 
peded the  cattle  and  burned  the  wagons.  The  trainmen  were 
permitted  to  retain  one  wagon  and  team,  with  just  enough  sup- 
plies to  last  them  to  army  headquarters. 

It  was  a  disheartened,  discomfited  band  that  reached  Fort 
Bridger.  The  information  that  two  other  trains  had  been  de- 
stroyed added  to  their  discouragement,  for  that  meant  that 
they,  in  common  with  the  other  trainmen  and  the  soldiers  at 
the  fort,  must  subsist  on  short  rations  for  the  winter.  There 
were  nearly  four  hundred  of  these  trainmen,  and  it  was  so  late 
in  the  season  that  they  had  no  choice  but  to  remain  where  they 
were  until  spring  opened. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

HEMMED  IN  BY  INDIANS — THE  DEAD-MULE  BARRICADE — A 
DREAM  THAT  SAVED  THREE  LIVES — SISTER  MARTHA'S 
DEATH — WILL  GOES  TO  SCHOOL — TURK'S  RESCUE  OF  HIS 
MASTER — THE  FIGHT  WITH  STEVE  GOBEL — OFF  FOR  THE 
PLAINS  AGAIN. 

T     was     an     irksome    Winter. 
The  men  at  the  Fort  hauled 
their  firewood  two  miles ;    as 
the  supplies  dwindled,  one  by 
one  the  oxen    were  slaught- 
ered, and  when  this  food  sup- 
ply was  exhausted,  starvation 
reared  its  gaunt  form.     Hap- 
pily the  freighters  got  word  of 
the  situation,  and  a  large  sup- 
ply team  reached  the  fort  before 
the  spring  was  fairly  opened. 
As  soon  as  practicable  the 
return    journey     was    under- 
taken.    At  Fort  Laramie  two  large  trains  were  put  in  charge 
of  Lew  Simpson,  as  brigade  wagon-master,  and  Will  was  in- 
stalled as  courier  between  the  two  caravans,  which  traveled 
twenty  miles  apart — plenty  of  elbow  room  for  camping  and  for- 
aging. 

One  morning  Simpson,  George  Woods  and  Will,  who  were  in 
the  rear  train,  set  out  for  the  forward  one,  mounted  upon 
mules  and  armed,  as  the  trainmen  always  were,  with  rifle, 
knife  and  a  brace  of  revolvers.  About  half  of  the  twenty  miles 
had  been  told  off  when  the  trio  saw  a  band  of  Indians  emerge 


42  LAST  OF   THE  GREAT   SCOUTS. 

from  a  clump  of  trees  half  a  mile  away  and  sweep  toward 
them.  Flight  with  the  mules  was  useless  ;  resistance  prom- 
ised hardly  more  success,  as  the  Indians  numbered  a  full  half 
hundred  ;  but  surrender  was  death  and  mutilation. 

"Shoot  the  mules,  boys!"  ordered  Simpson,  and  five 
minutes  later  two  men  and  a  boy  looked  grimly  over  a  still 
palpitating  barricade. 

The  defense  was  simple  ;  rifles  at  range,  revolvers  for  close 
quarters,  knives  at  the  last.  The  chief,  easily  distinguished 
by  his  feathered  head-dress,  was  assigned  to  Will.  Already 
his  close  shooting  was  the  pride  of  the  frontiersmen.  Simp- 
son's coolness  steadied  the  lad,  who  realized  that  the  situation 
was  desperate. 

The  Indians  came  on  with  the  rush  and  the  scream  of  the 
March  wind.  ' '  Fire  ! ' '  said  Simpson,  and  three  ponies 
emptied  their  saddles  as  the  smoke  curled  from  three  rifle 
barrels. 

Dismayed  by  the  fall  of  their  chief,  the  redskins  wheeled 
and  rode  out  of  range.  Will  gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Load  up  again,  Billy  !  "  smiled  Simpson.  "  They'll  soon 
be  back." 

11  They've  only  three  or  four  rifles,"  said  Woods.  There 
had  been  little  lead  in  the  cloud  of  arrows. 

"Here  they  come!"  warned  Simpson,  and  the  trio  ran 
their  rifles  out  over  the  dead  mules. 

Three  more  riderless  ponies;  but  the  Indians  kept  on,  sup- 
posing they  had  drawn  the  total  fire  of  the  whites.  A  revolver 
fusilade  undeceived  them,  and  the  charging  column  wavered 
and  broke  for  cover. 

Simpson  patted  Will  on  the  shoulder  as  they  reloaded. 
"You're  a  game  one,  Billy!"  said  he. 

"  You  bet  he  is, "  echoed  Woods,  coolly  drawing  an  arrow 
from  his  shoulder.  ' '  How  is  that,  Lew — poisoned  ?  ' ' 

Will  waited,  breathless,  for  the  decision,  and  his  relief  was  as 
great  as  Woods' s  when  Simpson,  after  a  critical  scrutiny, 
answered,  "No." 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  43 

The  wound  was  hastily  dressed,  and  the  little  company  gave 
an  undivided  attention  to  the  foe,  who  were  circling  around 
their  quarry,  hanging  to  the  off  sides  of  their  ponies  and  fir- 
ing under  them.  With  a  touch  of  the  grim  humor  that  plain 
life  breeds,  Will  declared  that  the  mules  were  veritable  pin- 
cushions, so  full  of  arrows  were  they  stuck. 

The  besieged  maintained  a  return  fire,  dropping  pony  after 
pony,  and  occasionally  a  rider.  This  proved  expensive  sport 
to  the  Indians,  and  the  whole  party  finally  withdrew  from 
range. 

There  was  a  long  breathing  spell,  which  the  trio  improved 
by  strengthening  their  defense,  digging  up  the  dirt  with  their 
knives  and  piling  it  upon  the  mules.  It  was  tedious  work, 
but  preferable  to  inactivity  and  cramped  quarters. 

Two  hours  went  by,  and  the  plan  of  the  enemy  was  dis- 
closed. A  light  breeze  arose  and  the  Indians  fired  the  prairie. 
Luckily  the  grass  near  the  trail  was  short,  and,  though  the 
heat  was  intense  and  the  smoke  stifling,  the  barricade  held  off 
the  flame.  Simpson  had  kept  a  close  watch,  and  presently 
gave  the  order  to  fire.  A  volley  went  through  the  smoke  and 
blaze,  and  the  yell  that  followed  proved  that  it  was  not 
wasted.  This  last  ruse  failing,  the  Indians  settled  down  to 
their  favorite  game — waiting. 

A  thin  line  of  them  circled  out  of  range;  ponies  were  pick- 
eted and  camps  pitched;  night  fell  and  the  stars  shot  out,  and 
the  red  man  watched  his  prey. 

As  Woods  was  wounded,  he  was  excused  from  guard  duty, 
Will  and  Simpson  keeping  watch  in  turn.  Will  took  the  first 
vigil,  and,  tired  though  he  was,  experienced  no  difficulty  in 
keeping  awake,  but  he  went  soundly  to  sleep  the  moment  he 
was  relieved.  He  was  wakened  by  a  dream  that  Turk  was 
barking  to  him,  and,  vaguely  alarmed,  he  sat  up  to  find  Simp- 
son sleeping  across  his  rifle. 

The  midnight  hush  was  unbroken,  and  the  darkness  lay 
thick  upon  the  plain,  but  shapes  blacker  than  night  hovered 
near,  and  Will  laid  his  hand  on  Simpson's  shoulder. 


44  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

The  latter  was  instantly  alive,  and  Woods  was  wakened. 
A  faint  click  went  away  on  the  night  breeze,  and  a  moment 
later  three  jets  of  flame  carried  warning  to  the  up-creeping  foe 
that  the  whites  were  both  alive  and  on  the  alert. 

There  was  no  more  sleep  within  the  barricade.  The  dawn 
grew  into  day,  and  anxious  eyes  scanned  the  trail  for  rein- 
forcements— coming  surely,  but  on  what  heavy  and  slow-turn- 
ing wheels. 

Noon  came  and  passed.  The  anxious  eyes  questioned  one 
another.  Had  the  rear  train  been  overcome  by  a  larger  band 
of  savages?  But  suddenly  half  a  dozen  of  the  Indians  were 
seen  to  spring  up  with  gestures  of  excitement,  and  spread  the 
alarm  around  the  circle. 

"  They  hear  the  cracking  of  the  bull- whips,"  said  Simpson. 

The  Indians  who  had  seen  the  first  team  pass,  and  had  as- 
sumed that  Simpson  and  his  companions  were  straggling  mem- 
bers of  it,  did  not  expect  another  train  so  soon.  There  was 
"mounting  in  hot  haste,"  and  the  Indians  rode  away  in  one 
bunch  for  the  distant  foot-hills,  just  as  the  first  ox-team  broke 
into  view. 

And  never  was  there  fairer  picture  to  more  appreciative  eyes 
than  those  same  lumbering,  clumsy  animals  ;  and  never  sweeter 
music  than  the  harsh  staccato  of  the  bull-whips. 

When  hunger  was  appeased  and  Woods' s  wound  properly 
dressed,  Will  for  the  second  time  found  himself  a  hero  among 
the  plainsmen.  His  nerve  and  coolness  were  dwelt  upon  by 
Simpson,  and  to  the  dream  that  waked  him  in  season  was 
ascribed  the  continued  life  on  earth  of  the  little  company. 
Will,  however,  was  disposed  to  allow  Turk  the  full  credit  for 
the  service. 

The  remainder  of  the  trip  was  devoid  of  special  incident,  and 
as  Will  neared  home  he  hurried  on  in  advance  of  the  train,  as 
our  home  was  on  the  L,eavenworth  trail.  His  heart  beat  high 
as  he  thought  of  the  dear  faces  awaiting  him,  unconscious  that 
he  was  so  near. 

But  the  home  toward  which  he  was  hastening  with  beating 


I.AST   OF  THE    GREAT  SCOUTS.  45 

heart  and  winged  heels  was  shadowed  by  a  great  grief. 
Sister  Martha's  married  life,  though  brief,  had  amply  justified 
her  brother's  estimate  of  the  man  into  whose  hands  she  had 
given  her  life.  She  was  taken  suddenly  ill,  and  it  was  not 
until  several  months  later  that  Will  learned  that  the  cause  of 
her  sickness  was  the  knowledge  that  had  come  to  her  of  the 
faithless  nature  of  her  husband.  The  revelation  was  made 
through  the  visit  of  one  of  Mr.  Crane's  creditors,  who,  angered 
at  a  refusal  to  liquidate  a  debt,  accused  Mr.  Crane  of  being  a 
bigamist,  and  threatened  to  set  the  law  upon  him.  The  blow 
was  fatal  to  one  of  Martha's  pure  and  affectionate  nature,  al- 
ready crushed  by  neglect  and  cruelty.  She  fell  to  the  floor, 
and  her  husband  hastily  put  her  to  bed  and  summoned  help, 
but  she  spoke  not  another  conscious  word  until  just  before  her 
death.  All  the  night  she  was  delirious,  and  her  one  thought 
was  "Willie,"  and  the  danger  he  was  in — not  alone  the  phy- 
sical danger,  but  the  moral  and  spiritual  peril  that  she  feared 
lay  in  association  with  rough  and  reckless  men.  She  moaned 
and  tossed,  and  uttered  incoherent  cries  ;  but  as  the  morning 
broke  the  storm  went  down,  and  the  anxious  watchers  fancied 
that  she  slept.  Suddenly  she  sat  up,  the  light  of  reason  again 
shining  in  her  eyes,  and  with  the  joyous  cry,  "Tell  mother 
Willie's  saved  !  Willie's  saved  !  "  she  fell  back  on  her  pillow, 
and  her  spirit  passed  away.  On  her  face  was  the  peace  that 
the  world  can  neither  give  nor  take  away.  The  veil  of  the  Un- 
known had  been  drawn  aside  for  a  space.  She  had  "  sent  her 
soul  through  the  Invisible,"  and  it  had  found  the  light  that  lit 
the  last  weary  steps  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow. 

Mr.  Crane  had  moved  from  I^eavenworth  to  Johnson  County, 
twenty-five  miles  away,  and  as  there  were  neither  telegraph 
nor  mail  facilities,  he  had  the  body  sent  home,  himself  accom- 
panying it.  Thus  our  first  knowledge  of  Martha's  sickness 
came  when  her  lifeless  clay  was  borne  across  our  threshold, 
the  threshold  that,  less  than  a  year  before,  she  had  crossed  a 
bright  and  bonny  bride.  Dazed  by  the  shock,  we  longed  for 
Will's  return  before  we  must  lay  his  idolized  sister  forever  in 
her  narrow  cell. 


46  LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

All  of  the  family,  Mr.  Crane  included,  were  gathered  in  tht 
sitting-room,  sad  and  silent,  when  Turk  suddenly  raised  his 
head,  listened  a  second,  and  bounded  out  of  doors. 

"Will  is  coming  !"  cried  mother,  and  we  all  ran  to  the  door. 
Turk  was  racing  up  the  long  hill,  at  the  top  of  which  was  a 
moving  speck  that  the  dog  knew  to  be  his  master.  His  keen 
ears  had  caught  the  familiar  whistle  half  a  mile  away. 

When  Turk  had  manifested  his  joy  at  the  meeting,  he  pre- 
pared Will  for  the  bereavement  that  awaited  him;  he  put  his 
head  down  and  emitted  a  long  and  repeated  wail.  Will's  first 
thought  was  for  mother,  and  he  fairly  ran  down  the  hill;  the 
girls  met  him  some  distance  from  the  house  and  sobbed  out 
the  sad  news. 

And  when  he  had  listened,  the  lad  that  had  passed  unflinch- 
ing through  two  Indian  fights,  broke  down  and  sobbed  with 
the  rest  of  us. 

"Did  that  rascal  Crane  have  anything  to  do  with  her 
death?"  he  asked,  when  the  first  passion  of  grief  was  over. 

Julia,  who  knew  no  better  at  the  time,  replied  that  Mr. 
Crane  was  the  kindest  of  husbands  and  was  crushed  with  sor- 
row at  his  loss;  but  spite  of  the  assurance,  Will,  when  he 
reached  the  house,  had  neither  look  nor  word  for  Mr.  Crane. 
He  just  put  his  arms  about  mother's  neck,  and  mingled  his 
grief  with  her  words  of  sympathy  and  love. 

Martha  was  shortly  after  laid  by  father's  side,  and  as  we 
stood  weeping  in  that  awful  moment  when  the  last  spadeful  of 
earth  completes  the  sepulture,  Will,  no  longer  master  of  him- 
self, stepped  up  before  Mr.  Crane. 

"  Murderer,"  he  said,  "one  day  you  shall  answer  to  me  for 
the  death  of  her  who  lies  there  !" 

When  Will  next  presented  himself  at  Mr.  Ma jors's  office,  he 
was  told  that  his  services  had  been  wholly  satisfactory,  and 
that  he  could  have  work  at  any  time  he  desired.  This  was 
gratifying,  but  a  sweeter  pleasure  was  to  lay  his  winter's 
wages  in  mother's  lap.  Through  his  help  and  her  business 
ability  our  pecuniary  affairs  were  in  good  condition.  We  were 


I, AST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  47 

comfortably  situated,  and  as  Salt  Creek  Valley  now  boasted  of 
a  schoolhouse,  mother  wished  Will  to  enter  school.  He  was 
so  young  when  he  came  West  that  his  school  days  had  been 
few;  nor  was  the  prospect  of  adding  to  their  number  alluring. 
After  the  excitement  of  life  on  the  plains,  going  to  school  was 
dull  work,  in  truth;  but  he  realized  that  there  was  a  world 
beyond  the  prairie's  horizon,  and  he  entered  school  determined 
to  do  honest  work. 

Our  first  teacher  was  of  the  old-fashioned  sort.  He  taught 
because  he  had  to  live.  He  had  no  love  for  his  work,  and  knew 
nothing  of  children.  Hence  Will's  school  days  were  neither  as 
pleasant  nor  profitable  as  we  had  hoped. 

Turk,  who  accompanied  his  master  everywhere,  was  also 
seized  with  educational  ambition.  We  tried  to  drive  him  home, 
but  he  followed  at  a  distance,  and  as  we  entered  the  school- 
house  he  emerged  from  the  shrubbery  by  the  roadside  and  crept 
under  the  building. 

Alas  for  the  scholars,  and  alas  for  the  school  !  Another  am- 
bitious dog  reposed  beneath  the  temple  of  learning. 

Will  about  that  time  was  having  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour. 
An  examination  into  his  knowledge,  or  lack  of  it,  was  under 
way,  and  he  was  hard  pressed.  Had  he  been  asked  how  to 
strike  a  trail,  locate  water,  or  pitch  a  tent,  his  replies  would 
have  been  full  and  accurate,  but  the  teacher's  queries  seemed 
as  foolish  as  the  "  Reeling  and  Writhing,  Ambition,  Distrac- 
tion, Uglification  and  Derision"  of  the  Mock  Turtle  in  "Alice 
in  Wonderland.'* 

Turk  effected  an  unexpected  rescue.  Snarls  were  heard  be- 
neath the  schoolhouse  ;  then  savage  growls  and  yelps,  while 
the  floor  resounded  with  the  whacks  of  the  canine  combatants. 
With  a  whoop  that  would  not  have  disgraced  an  Indian,  Will 
was  out  of  doors,  shouting,  "  Bat  him  up,  Turk!  Bat  him  up!" 

The  owner  of  the  opposing  dog  was  one  Steve  Gobel.  'Twixt 
him  and  Will  a  good-sized  feud  existed.  Steve  was  also  on  the 
scene,  with  a  defiant,  "  Sic  'em,  Nigger  !"  and  the  rest  of  the 
school  followed  in  his  wake. 


48  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

Of  the  twisting,  yelping  bundle  of  dogflesh  that  rolled  from 
under  the  schoolhouse  it  was  difficult  to  say  which  was  Turk 
and  which  Nigger.  Eliza  and  I  called  to  Turk,  and  wept  be- 
cause he  would  not  hear.  The  teacher  ordered  the  children 
back  to  their  studies,  but  they  were  as  deaf  as  Turk,  whereat 
the  enraged  pedagogue  hopped  wildly  about,  flourishing  a  stick 
and  whacking  every  boy  that  strayed  within  reach  of  it. 

Nigger  soon  had  enough  of  the  fight  and  striking  his  tail- 
colors,  fled  yelping  from  the  battleground.  His  master,  Steve 
Gobel,  a  large  youth  of  nineteen  or  twenty  years,  pulled  off  his 
coat  to  avenge  upon  Will  the  dog's  defeat,  but  the  teacher 
effected  a  Solomon-like  compromise  by  whipping  both  boys  for 
bringing  their  dogs  to  school,  after  which  the  interrupted  ses- 
sion was  resumed. 

But  Gobel  nursed  his  wrath  and  displayed  his  enmity  in  a 
thousand  small  ways.  Will  paid  no  attention  to  him,  but  buck- 
led down  to  his  school  work.  Will  was  a  born  "lady's  man," 
and  when  Miss  Jessie  Kane  complicated  the  feud  'twixt  him 
and  Steve,  it  hurried  to  its  climax.  Jessie  was  older  than 
Will,  but  she  plainly  showed  her  preference  for  him  over  Mas- 
ter Gobel.  Steve  had  never  distinguished  himself  in  an  Indian 
fight ;  he  was  not  a  hero,  but  just  a  plain  boy. 

Now,  indeed,  was  Will's  life  become  unendurable ;  "  patience 
had  had  its  perfect  work."  He  knew  that  a  boy  of  twelve, 
however  strong  and  sinewy,  was  not  a  match  for  an  almost 
full-grown  man  ;  so,  to  balance  matters,  he  secreted  on  his 
person  an  old  bowie-knife.  When  next  he  met  Steve,  the 
latter  climaxed  his  bullying  tactics  by  striking  the  object  of 
his  resentment,  but  he  was  unprepared  for  the  sudden  leap 
that  bore  him  backward  to  the  earth.  Size  and  strength  told 
swiftly  in  the  struggle  that  succeeded,  but  Will,  with  a  dex- 
terous thrust,  put  the  point  of  the  bowie  into  the  fleshy  part 
of  Steve's  lower  leg,  a  spot  where  he  knew  the  cut  would  not 
be  serious. 

The  stricken  bully  shrieked  that  he  was  killed  ;  the  children 
gathered  round  and  screamed  loudly  at  the  sight  of  blood. 


LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  49 

"  Will  Cody  has  killed  Steve  Gobel  !  "  was  the  wailing  cry, 
and  Will,  though  he  knew  Steve  was  but  pinked,  began  to 
realize  that  frontier  styles  of  combat  were  not  esteemed  in 
communities  given  up  to  the  soberer  pursuits  of  spelling, 
arithmetic,  and  history.  Steve,  he  knew,  was  more  frightened 
than  hurt,  but  the  picture  of  the  prostrate,  ensanguined  youth, 
and  the  group  of  awe-stricken  children,  bore  in  upon  his  mind 
the  truth  that  his  act  was  an  infraction  of  the  civil  code  ;  that, 
even  in  self-defense,  he  had  no  right  to  use  a  knife  unless  his 
life  was  threatened. 

The  irate  pedagogue  was  hastening  to  the  scene,  and  after 
one  glance  at  him,  Will  incontinently  fled.  At  the  road  he 
came  upon  a  wagon  train,  and  with  a  shout  of  joy  recognized 
in  the  "  Boss,"  John  Willis,  a  wagon-master  employed  by  Rus- 
sell, Majors  &  Waddell,  and  a  great  friend  of  the  "boy 
extra's."  Will  climbed  up  behind  Willis  on  his  horse,  and 
related  his  escapade  to  a  close  and  sympathetic  listener. 

"  If  you  say  so,  Billy,"  was  his  comment,  "I'll  go  over  and 
lick  the  whole  outfit  and  stampede  the  school." 

"  No,  let  the  school  alone,"  replied  Will ;  "  but  I  guess  I'll 
graduate,  if  you'll  let  me  go  along  with  you  this  trip." 

Willis  readily  agreed,  but  insisted  upon  returning  to  the 
schoolhouse.  "I'm  not  going, ' '  said  he,  "to  let  you  be  beaten 
by  a  bully  of  a  boy,  and  a  Yankee  school  teacher  with  a  little 
learning,  but  not  a  bit  of  sand."  His  idea  of  equalizing  forces 
was  that  he  and  ' '  L,ittle  Billy  ' '  should  fight  against  the  peda- 
gogue and  Steve. 

Will  consented,  and  they  rode  back  to  the  schoolhouse,  on 
the  door  of  which  Willis  pounded  with  his  revolver  butt,  and 
when  the  door  was  opened  he  invited  Gobel  and  the  ' '  grammar 
man  ' '  to  come  forth  and  do  battle.  But  Steve  had  gone  home, 
the  teacher  fled,  and  the  scholars,  dismissing  themselves,  ran 
home  in  a  fright. 

That  night  mother  received  a  note  from  the  teacher. 

He  was  not  hired,  he  wrote,  to  teach  desperadoes,  therefore 
Will  was  dismissed.  But  Will  had  already  dismissed  himself, 


5*  LAST  OF   THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

and  had  rejoined  the  larger  school  whose  walls  are  the  blue 
bowl  called  the  sky.  And  long  after  was  his  name  used  by 
the  pedagogue  to  conjure  up  obedience  in  his  pupils  :  unless 
they  kissed  the  rod  they,  too,  might  go  to  the  bad  and  follow 
in  Will  Cody's  erring  footsteps. 

Willis  and  Will  had  gone  but  a  piece  on  the  road  when 
horsemen  were  seen  approaching. 

' '  Mr.  Gobel  and  the  officers  are  after  me, ' '  said  Will. 

"Being  arter  you,  and  gittin'  you,  are  two  different 
things,"  said  the  wagon-master.  "  I4e  low  and  I'll  settle  the 
men.'' 

Mr.  Gobel  and  his  party  rode  up  with  the  information  that 
they  had  come  to  arrest  Will;  but  they  got  no  satisfaction  from 
Willis.  He  would  not  allow  them  to  search  the  wagons,  and 
they  finally  rode  away.  That  night,  when  the  camp  was 
pitched,  the  wagon-master  gave  Will  a  mule  and  accompanied 
him  home.  We  were  rejoiced  to  see  him,  especially  mother, 
who  was  much  concerned  over  his  escapade. 

"Oh,  Will,  how  could  you  do  such  a  thing?"  she  said, 
sorrowfully.  "  It  is  a  dreadful  act  to  use  a  knife  on  anyone. " 

Will  disavowed  any  homicidal  intentions;  but  his  explana- 
tions made  little  headway  against  mother's  disapproval  and 
her  disappointment  over  the  interruption  of  his  school  career. 
As  it  seemed  the  best  thing  to  do,  she  consented  to  his  going 
with  the  wagon  train  under  the  care  of  John  Willis,  and  the 
remainder  of  the  night  was  passed  in  preparations  for  the 
journey. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  VALLEY  GROVE  HOUSE — A  TRAPPING  EXPEDITION  AND 
A  BRUSH  WITH  INDIANS — A  CAVE  OF  HORRORS — THE  DEATH 

AND  BURIAL  OF  TURK — A  MILD  ATTACK  OF  GOLD  FEVER — 
WILL  AS  A  PONY  EXPRESS  RIDER. 

HIS  trip  of  Will's  covered 
only  two  months,  and  was 
without  adventure — stirring 
or  otherwise.  It  was  suc- 
ceeded by  another  uneventful 
expedition  with  a  boss  named 
Buck  Bonier  to  the  new  post 
at  Fort  Wallace,  at  Cheyenne 
Pass. 

Meantime  mother  had  de- 
cided to  improve  the  oppor- 
tunity afforded  by  her  geogra- 
phical position,  and  under  her 
supervision  ' '  The  Valley 
Grove  House"  was  going  up.  This  hotel  was  purchased, 
some  years  after  mother's  death,  by  Dr.  J.  J.  Crook,  and 
burned  while  in  his  possession.  Its  ruins  may  be  seen  in  Salt 
Creek  Valley  to  this  day. 

The  hotel  commanded  a  magnificent  prospect.  Below  lay 
the  beautiful  Salt  Creek  Valley.  It  derived  its  name  from  the 
saline  properties  of  the  little  stream  that  rushed  along  itspebbly 
bed  to  empty  its  clear  waters  into  the  muddy  Missouri.  From 
the  vantage  ground  of  our  location  Salt  Creek  looked  like  a 
silver  thread  winding  its  way  through  the  rich  verdure  of  the 
valley.  The  region  was  dotted  with  fertile  farms  ;  from  east  to 


52  LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

west  ran  the  government  road,  known  as  the  Old  Salt  Lake 
Trail,  and  back  of  us  was  Cody  Hill,  named  for  my  father. 
Our  house  stood  on  the  side  hill,  just  above  the  military  road, 
and  between  us  and  the  hill-top  lay  the  grove  that  gave  the 
hotel  its  name.  Government  hill,  which  broke  the  eastern 
sky-line,  hid  Leavenworth  and  the  Missouri  River,  culminat- 
ing to  the  south  in  Pilot  Knob,  the  eminence  on  which  my 
father  was  buried,  also  beyond  our  view. 

Mother's  business  sagacity  was  justified  in  the  hotel  ven- 
ture. The  trail  began  its  half-mile  ascent  of  Cody  Hill  just 
below  our  house,  and  at  this  point  the  expedient  known  as 
"  doubling  "  was  employed.  Two  teams  hauled  a  wagon  up 
the  steep  incline,  the  double  team  returning  for  the  wagon  left 
behind.  Thus  the  always  slow  progress  of  a  wagon  train  be- 
came a  very  snail 'space,  and  the  hotel  was  insured  a  full  quota 
of  hungry  trainmen. 

Will  found  that  his  wages  were  a  very  considerable  aid  to 
mother  in  the  large  expense  incurred  by  the  building  of  the 
hotel,  and  the  winter  drawing  on,  forbidding  further  freight- 
ing trips,  he  planned  an  expedition  with  a  party  of  trappers. 
More  money  was  to  be  made  at  this  business  during  the  winter 
than  at  any  other  time. 

The  trip  was  successful,  and  contained  only  one  adventure 
spiced  with  danger,  and  this,  as  was  so  often  the  case,  Will 
twisted  to  his  own  advantage  by  coolness  and  presence  of  mind. 

One  morning,  as  he  was  making  the  round  of  his  traps,  three 
Indians  appeared  on  the  trail,  each  leading  a  pony  laden  with 
pelts.  One  had  a  gun  ;  the  others  carried  bows  and  arrows. 
The  odds  were  three  to  one,  and  the  brave  with  the  gun  was 
the  most  to  be  feared. 

This  Indian  dropped  his  bridle-rein  and  threw  up  his  rifle  ; 
but  before  it  was  at  his  shoulder  Will  had  fired,  and  he  fell  for- 
ward on  his  face.  His  companions  bent  their  bows,  one  arrow 
passing  through  Will's  hat  and  another  piercing  his  arm  ;  the 
first  wound  he  ever  received.  Will  swung  his  cap  about  his 
head. 


LAST  OP   THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  53 

1 '  This  way  !  Here  they  are  ! "  he  shouted  to  an  imaginary 
party  of  friends  at  his  back.  Then  with  his  revolver  he  wounded 
another  of  the  Indians,  who,  believing  reinforcements  were  at 
hand,  left  their  ponies  and  fled. 

-Will  took  the  ponies  on  the  double-quick  back  to  camp,  and 
the  trappers  decided  to  pull  up  stakes  at  once.  It  had  been  a 
profitable  season,  and  the  few  more  pelts  to  be  had  were  not 
worth  the  risk  of  an  attack  by  avenging  Indians,  so  they 
packed  their  outfit  and  proceeded  to  Fort  lyaramie.  Will  re- 
alized a  handsome  sum  from  the  sale  of  his  captured  furs,  be- 
sides those  of  the  animals  he  had  himself  trapped. 

At  the  fort  were  two  men  bound  east  and  impatient  to  set 
out ;  and  Will,  in  his  haste  to  reach  home,  joined  forces  with 
them.  Rather  than  wait  for  an  uncertain  wagon  train,  they 
decided  to  chance  the  dangers  of  the  road.  They  bought'three 
ponies  and  a  pack  mule  for  the  camp  outfit,  and  sallied  forth 
in  high  spirits. 

The  youngest  of  the  party,  Will  was  likewise  the  most  ex- 
perienced plainsman,  and  was  constantly  on  the  alert.  They 
reached  the  Little  Blue  River  without  sign  of  Indians,  but 
across  the  stream  Will  espied  a  band  of  them.  The  redskins 
were  as  keen  of  eye,  and  straightway  exchanged  the  pleasures 
of  the  chase  for  the  more  exciting  pursuit  of  human  game. 
But  they  had  the  river  to  cross,  and  this  gave  the  white  men  a 
good  start.  The  pursuit  was  hot,  and  grew  hotter,  but  the 
kindly  darkness  fell,  and  under  cover  of  it  the  trio  got  safely 
away.  That  night  they  camped  in  a  little  ravine  that  afforded 
shelter  from  both  Indians  and  weather. 

A  look  over  the  ravine  disclosed  a  cave  that  promised  a  snug 
harbor,  and  therein  Will  and  one  of  his  companions  spread 
their  blankets  and  fell  asleep.  The  third  man  whose  duty  it 
was  to  prepare  the  supper,  kindled  a  fire  just  inside  the  cave, 
and  returned  outside  for  a  supply  of  fuel.  When  he  again 
entered  the  cave  the  whole  interior  was  revealed  by  the  danc- 
ing firelight,  and  after  one  look  he  gave  a  yell  of  terror, 
dropped  his  firewood  and  fled . 


54  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

Will  and  the  other  chap  were  on  their  knees  instantly,  grop- 
ing for  their  rifles,  in  the  belief  that  the  Indians  were  upon 
them  ;  but  the  sight  that  met  their  eyes  was  more  terror-breed- 
ing at  the  first  contact  than  the  sight  of  a  thousand  Indians. 
A  dozen  bleached  and  ghastly  skeletons  were  gathered  with 
them  around  the  campfire,  and  seemed  to  nod  and  sway,  and 
thrust  their  long-chilled  bones  toward  the  cheery  blaze. 

Ghastly  as  it  was  within  the  cave,  Will  found  it  more  un- 
pleasant in  the  open.  The  night  was  cold,  and  a  storm 
threatened. 

"Well,"  said  he  to  his  companions,  "we  know  the  worst 
that's  in  there  now.  It  won't  hurt  us.  I^et's  go  back." 

"  Not  if  I  know  myself,  sonny,"  returned  one  of  the  men 
decidedly,  and  the  other  heartily  agreed  with  him,  swearing 
that  as  it  was  he  should  not  be  able  to  close  his  eyes  for  a 
week.  So,  after  a  hurried  lunch  upon  the  cold  provisions,  the 
party  mounted  their  ponies  and  pushed  on.  The  promised 
snowstorm  materialized  and  shortly  became  a  young  blizzard, 
and  obliged  to  dismount  and  camp  in  the  open  prairie,  they 
made  a  miserable  night  of  it. 

But  it  had  an  end,  as  all  things  have,  and  with  the  morning 
they  resumed  the  trail,  reaching  Marysville  on  the  Big  Blue 
after  many  trials  and  privations. 

From  here  the  trail  was  easier,  as  the  country  was  pretty 
well  settled  and  Will,  having  visited  father's  grave  on  the  way, 
reached  home  without  further  adventure  or  misadventure. 
Here  there  was  compensation  for  hardship  in  the  joy  of  hand- 
ing over  to  mother  all  his  money,  realizing  that  it  would 
lighten  her  burdens  ;  burdens  borne  that  she  might  leave  her 
children  provided  for  when  she  could  no  longer  repel  the  dread 
messenger,  that  in  all  those  years  seemed  to  hover  so  near 
that  even  our  childish  hearts  felt  its  presence  ere  it  actually 
crossed  the  threshold. 

-  It  was  early  in  March  when  Will  returned  from  his  trapping 
expedition.  Mother's  business  was  flourishing,  though  she 
herself  grew  frailer  with  the  passing  of  each  day.  The  sum- 


tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  55 

mer  that  came  on  was  a  sad  one  for  us  all,  for  it  marked 
Turk's  last  days  on  earth. 

It  was  August,  and  as  evening  drew  on  the  family  repaired 
to  the  veranda  to  enjoy  the  cooling  breeze.  Turk  lay  in  the 
yard.  A  strange  dog  came  up  the  road,  ran  into  the  yard  to 
give  Turk  a  vicious  bite,  and  went  on.  We  dressed  the 
wound,  and  thought  little  of  it  until  some  horsemen  rode  up 
with  the  inquiry  :  ' '  Have  you  seen  a  dog  pass  here  ?  ' ' 

We  answered  indignantly  that  a  strange  dog  had  passed,  and 
had  bitten  our  dog, 

"  Better  look  out  for  him,  then,"  warned  the  men  as  they 
rode  away.  ' '  The  dog  is  mad. ' ' 

Consternation  seized  us.  It  was  dreadful  to  think  of  Turk 
going  mad — he  who  had  been  our  playmate  from  infancy,  and 
who,  through  childhood's  3'ears,  had  grown  as  dear  to  us  as 
many  human  beings  could;  but  mother  knew  the  matter  was 
serious,  and  issued  her  commands:  Turk  must  be  shut  up, 
and  we  must  not  even  visit  him  for  a  certain  space.  And  so 
we  shut  him  up,  hoping  for  the  best,  but,  alas!  it  speedily  be- 
came plain  that  the  poison  was  working  in  his  veins,  and  that 
the  greatest  kindness  we  could  do  him  was  to  kill  him. 

Will  utterly  refused  to  shoot  him,  and  the  execution  was 
delegated  to  the  hired  man,  Will  stipulating  that  none  of  his 
weapons  should  be  used,  and  that  he  be  allowed  to  get  out  of 
ear-shot. 

The  mournful  duty  discharged,  we  assembled  in  solemn 
conclave  to  plan  the  obsequies.  Wiil  procured  a  large  block 
of  the  red  bloodstone  which  abounded  in  that  country,  squared 
it  off,  and  carved  the  name  Turk  upon  it  in  large  letters.  Then 
a  grave  was  dug,  and  to  it  we  consigned,  with  many  tears,  the 
body  of  our  faithful  friend.  Will,  who  called  me  "The little 
Preacher,"  asked  that  I  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer.  This  com- 
pleted the  service.  We  filled  up  the  grave,  placed  the  blood- 
stone at  its  head,  and  returned  home. 

To  us  there  had  been  no  incongruity  in  the  funeral  cere- 
monials and  burial.  Turk  had  given  us  all  that  dog  could 


56  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

give;  we,  for  our  part,  gave  him  Christian  sepulture.  Our 
sorrow  was  sincere.  We  had  lost  an  honest,  loyal  friend.  For 
many  succeeding  days  his  grave  was  garlanded  with  fresh 
flowers,  placed  there  by  loving  hands.  Vale  Turk  !  Would 
that  our  friends  of  the  higher  evolution  were  all  as  staunch  as 
thou! 

THE  BURIAL  OF  TURK. 

Only  a  dog  !  but  the  tears  fall  fast 

As  we  lay  him  to  rest  underneath  the  green  sod, 

Where  bountiful  nature,  the  sweet  summer  through, 
Will  deck  him  with  daisies  and  bright  goldenrod. 

The  loving  thought  of  a  boyish  heart 

Marks  the  old  dog's  grave  with  a  bloodstone  red; 

The  name,  carved  in  letters  rough  and  rude, 

Keeps  his  memory  green,  though  his  life  be  sped. 

For  the  daring  young  hero  of  wood  and  plain, 
Like  all  who  are  generous,  strong  and  brave, 

Has  a  heart  that  is  loyal  and  kind  and  true, 
And  shames  not  to  weep  o'er  his  old  friend's  grave. 

Only  a  dog,  do  you  say  ?  but  I  deem 
A  dog  who  with  faithfulness  fills  his  trust, 

More  worthy  than  many  a  man  to  be  given 
A  tribute  of  love,  when  but  ashes  and  dust. 

An  unusually  good  teacher  now  presided  at  the  schoolhouse 
in  our  neighborhood,  and  Will  was  again  persuaded  into  edu- 
cational paths.  He  put  in  a  hard  winter's  work;  but  with  the 
coming  of  spring  and  its  unrest — the  swelling  of  buds  and 
the  springing  of  grass,  the  return  of  the  birds  and  the  twitter- 
ing from  myriad  nests — the  Spirits  of  the  Plains  beckoned 
to  him,  and  he  joined  a  party  of  gold  hunters  on  the  long  trail 
to  Pike's  Peak. 

The  gold  excitement  was  at  its  height  in  1860.  By  our 
house  had  passed  the  historic  wagon  bearing  on  its  side  the 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  57 

classic  motto,  "  Pike's  Peak  or  Bust !  "  Afterward,  stranded 
by  the  wayside,  a  whole  history  of  failure  and  disappointment, 
borne  with  grim  humor,  was  told  by  the  addition  of  the  elo- 
quent word,  "  Busted  !  " 

For  all  his  adventures,  Will  was  only  fourteen,  and  although 
tall  for  his  age,  he  had  not  the  physical  strength  that  might 
have  been  expected  from  his  hardy  life.  It  was  not  strange 
that  he  should  take  the  gold  fever  ;  less  strange  that  mother 
should  dread  to  see  him  again  leave  home  to  face  unknown 
perils;  and  it  is  not  at  all  remarkable  that  upon  reaching  Aura- 
ria,  now  Denver,  he  should  find  that  fortunes  were  not  lying 
around  much  more  promiscuously  in  a  gold  country  than  in 
any  other. 

Recent  events  have  confirmed  a  belief  that  under  the  excite- 
ment of  a  gold  craze  men  exercise  less  judgment  than  at  any 
other  time.  Except  in  placer  mining,  which  almost  any  one 
can  learn,  gold  mining  is  a  science.  Now  and  again  a  nugget 
worth  a  fortune  is  picked  up,  but  the  average  mortal  can  get  a 
better  livelihood,  with  half  the  work,  in  almost  any  other 
field  of  effort.  To  become  rich  a  knowledge  of  ores  and  min- 
ing methods  is  indispensable. 

But  Will  never  reached  the  gold  fields.  Almost  the  first 
person  he  met  on  the  streets  of  Julesberg  was  George  Chris- 
man,  who  had  been  chief  wagon-master  for  Russell,  Majors 
&  Waddell.  Will  had  become  well  acquainted  with  Chrisman 
on  the  various  expeditions  he  had  made  for  the  firm. 

This  man  was  located  at  Julesberg  as  agent  for  the  Pony 
Express  line,  which  was  in  process  of  formation.  This  line 
was  an  enterprise  of  Russell,  Majors  &  Waddell.  Mr. 
Russell  met  in  Washington  the  senator  from  California.  This 
gentleman  knew  that  the  Western  firm  of  contractors  was  run- 
ning a  daily  stage-coach  from  the  Missouri  River  to  Sacra- 
mento, and  he  urged  upon  Mr.  Russell  the  desirability  of  the 
firm  operating  a  pony  express  line  along  the  same  route. 
There  was  already  a  line  known  as  the  ' '  Butterfield  Route, ' ' 
but  this  was  circuitous;  the  fastest  time  ever  made  on  it  was 
twenty-one  days. 


58  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

Mr.  Russell  laid  the  matter  before  his  partners.  They  were 
opposed  to  it,  as  they  were  sure  it  would  be  a  losing  venture; 
but  the  senior  member  urged  the  matter  so  strongly  that  they 
consented  to  try  it  for  the  good  of  the  country,  with  no  expec- 
tation of  profit.  They  utilized  the  stage-coach  stations  already 
established,  and  only  about  two  months  were  required  to  put 
the  Pony  Express  line  in  running  order. 

Riders  received  from  a  hundred  and  twenty  to  a  hundred 
and  twenty-five  dollars  a  month,  but  they  earned  it.  In 
order  to  stand  the  life  great  physical  strength  and  endurance 
were  necessary;  in  addition,  riders  must  be  cool,  brave  and 
resourceful.  Their  lives  were  in  constant  peril,  and  they  were 
obliged  to  do  double  duty  in  case  the  comrade  that  was  to 
relieve  them  had  been  disabled  by  outlaws  or  Indians. 

Two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  was  the  daily  distance  that 
must  be  made;  this  constituted  an  average  of  a  little  over  ten 
miles  an  hour.  In  the  exceedingly  rough  country  this  aver- 
age could  not  be  kept  up;  to  balance  it,  there  were  a  few 
places  in  the  route  where  the  rider  was  expected  to  cover 
twenty-five  miles  an  hour. 

In  making  such  a  run  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  no 
extra  weight  was  carried.  Betters  were  written  on  the  finest 
tissue  paper;  the  charge  was  at  the  rate  of  five  dollars  for 
half  an  ounce.  A  hundred  of  these  letters  would  make  a  bulk 
not  much  larger  than  an  ordinary  writing-tablet. 

The  mail  pouches  were  never  to  carry  more  than  twenty 
pounds.  They  were  leather  bags,  impervious  to  moisture  ; 
the  letters,  as  a  further  protection,  were  wrapped  in  oiled  silk. 
The  pouches  were  locked,  sealed  and  strapped  to  the  rider's 
side.  They  were  not  unlocked  during  the  journey  from  St. 
Joseph  to  Sacramento. 

The  first  trip  was  made  in  ten  days;  this  was  a  saving  of  eleven 
days  over  the  best  time  ever  made  by  the  ' '  Butterfield  Route. ' ' 
Sometimes  the  time  was  shortened  to  eight  days  ;  but  an  aver- 
age trip  was  made  in  nine.  The  distance  covered  in  this  time 
was  nineteen  hundred  and  sixty- six  miles. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  59 

President  Buchanan's  last  presidential  message  was  carried 
in  December,  1860,  in  a  few  hours  over  eight  days.  President 
Lincoln's  inaugural  the  following  March  was  transmitted  in 
seven  days  and  seventeen  hours.  This  was  the  quickest  trip 
ever  made. 

The  Pony  Kxpress  line  made  its  worth  at  once  felt.  It  would 
have  become  a  financial  success  but  that  a  telegraph  line  was 
put  into  operation  over  the  same  stretch  of  territory,  under  the 
direction  of  Mr.  Edward  Creighton.  The  first  message  was 
sent  over  the  wires  the  24th  of  October,  1861.  The  Pony  Ex- 
press line  had  outlived  its  usefulness,  and  was  at  once  discon- 
tinued. But  it  had  accomplished  its  main  purpose,  which  was 
to  determine  whether  the  route  by  which  it  went  could  be  made 
a  permanent  track  for  travel  the  year  through.  The  cars  of  the 
Union  Pacific  road  afterward  traveled  nearly  the  same  old 
trails  as  that  followed  by  the  daring  riders  of  frontier  days. 

Mr.  Chrisman  gave  Will  a  cordial  greeting.  He  explained 
the  business  of  the  express  line  to  his  young  friend,  and  stated 
that  the  company  had  nearly  perfected  its  arrangements.  It 
was  now  buying  ponies  and  putting  them  into  good  condition 
preparatory  to  beginning  operations.  He  added,  jokingly: 

"It's  a  pity  you're  not  a  few  years  older,  Billy.  I  would 
give  you  a  job  as  Pony  Express  rider.  There's  good  pay  in 
it." 

Will  was  at  once  greatly  taken  with  the  idea,  and  begged  so 
hard  to  be  given  a  trial  that  Mr.  Chrisman  consented  to  give 
him  work  for  a  month.  If  the  life  proved  too  hard  for  him  he 
was  to  be  laid  off  at  the  end  of  that  time.  He  had  a  short  run 
of  forty-five  miles  ;  there  were  three  relay  stations,  and  he  was 
expected  to  make  fifteen  miles  an  hour. 

The  third  of  April,  1860,  Mr.  Russell  stood  ready  to  receive 
the  mail  from  a  fast  New  York  train  at  St.  Joseph.  He  ad- 
justed the  letter  pouch  on  the  pony  in  the  presence  of  an  ex- 
cited crowd.  Besides  the  letters,  several  large  New  York  papers 
printed  special  editions  on  tissue  paper  for  this  inaugural  trip. 
The  crowd  plucked  hairs  from  the  tail  of  the  first  animal  to 


60  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

start  on  the  novel  journey,  and  preserved  these  hairs  as  talis- 
mans. The  rider  mounted,  the  moment  for  starting  came,  the 
signal  was  given  and  off  he  dashed. 

At  the  same  moment  Sacramento  witnessed  a  similar  scene  ; 
the  rider  of  that  region  started  on  the  two  thousand  mile  ride 
eastward  as  the  other  started  westward.  All  the  way  along  the 
road  the  several  other  riders  were  ready  for  their  initial  gallop. 

Will  looked  forward  eagerly  to  the  day  when  the  express 
line  should  be  set  in  motion,  and  when  the  hour  came  it  found 
him  ready,  standing  beside  his  horse  and  waiting  for  the  rider 
whom  he  was  to  relieve.  There  was  a  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  a 
horseman  dashed  up  and  flung  him  the  saddle  bags.  Will 
threw  them  upon  the  waiting  pony,  vaulted  into  the  saddle 
and  was  off  like  the  wind. 

The  first  relay  station  was  reached  on  time,  and  Will  changed 
with  hardly  a  second's  loss  of  time,  while  the  panting,  reeking 
animal  he  had  ridden  was  left  to  the  care  of  the  stock-tender. 
This  was  repeated  at  the  end  of  the  second  fifteen  miles,  and 
the  last  station  was  reached  a  few  minutes  ahead  of  time.  The 
return  trip  was  made  in  good  order,  and  then  Will  wrote  to  us 
of  his  new  position,  and  told  us  that  he  was  in  love  with  the 
life. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  PONY  EXPRESS  IS  "HELD  UP  " — ANOTHER  TRAPPING 
EXPEDITION: — FIGHT  WITH  A  BEAR — A  BROKEN  LEG — 
ALONE  IN  THE  DUG-OUT — AN  INDIAN  VISIT,  AND  A 
TOUCH  OF  AULD  LANG  SYNE — A  DESPERATE  SITUATION 
— AN  ELEVENTH-HOUR  RESCUE — HOME  AGAIN — DEATH 
OF  DAVE  PHILLIPS. 

FTER  being  pounded  against  a 
saddle,  three  dashes  daily  for 
three  months,  to  the  tune  of 
fifteen  miles  an  hour,  Will 
began  to  feel  a  little  loose  in 
his  joints,  and  weary  withal, 
but  he  was  determined  to 
"stick  it  out."  Besides  the 
daily  pounding,  the  track  of 
the  Pony  Express  rider  was 
strewn  with  perils.  A  way- 
farer through  that  wild  land 
was  as  like  to  run  afoul  of  out- 
laws and  Indians  as  to  pass 
unmolested,  and  as  it  was  known  that  packages  of  value  were 
frequently  dispatched  by  the  Pony  Express  line,  the  route  was 
punctuated  by  ambuscades. 

Will  had  an  eye  out  every  trip  for  a  hold-up,  but  three 
months  went  by  before  he  added  that  novelty  to  his  other 
experiences.  One  day,  as  he  flew  around  a  bend  in  a  narrow 
pass,  he  confronted  a  huge  revolver  in  the  grasp  of  a  man  who 
manifestly  meant  business,  and  whose  salutation  was  : 
"Halt  !  Throw  up  your  hands  !  " 

61 


62  LAST   OF   THK   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

Most  people  do,  and  Will's  hands  were  raised  reluctantly. 
The  highwayman  advanced,  saying,  not  unkindly  : 

"  I  don't  want  to  hurt  you,  boy,  but  I  do  want  them  bags." 

Money  packages  were  in  the  saddle-bags,  and  Will  was 
minded  to  save  them  if  he  could,  so,  as  the  outlaw  reached  for 
the  booty,  Will  touched  the  pony  with  his  foot,  and  the  upshot 
was  satisfactory  to  an  unexpected  degree.  The  plunge  upset 
the  robber,  and  as  the  pony  swept  over  him  he  got  a  vicious 
blow  from  one  hoof.  Will  wheeled  for  a  revolver  duel,  but  the 
foe  was  prostrate,  stunned,  and  bleeding  at  the  head.  Will 
disarmed  the  fellow  and  pinioned  his  arms  behind  him,  and 
then  he  tied  up  his  broken  head.  The  prisoner  must  have 
a  horse  hidden  hard  by,  and  a  bit  of  a  search  disclosed  it.  When 
Will  returned  with  the  animal  its  owner  had  opened  his  eyes 
and  was  beginning  to  remember  a  few  things.  Will  helped 
him  to  mount,  and  out  of  pure  kindness  tied  him  on  ;  then  he 
straddled  his  own  pony  and  towed  the  dismal  outfit  to  the  next 
station.  Here  the  prisoner  was  left  with  the  stock-tender,  and 
the  Pony  Express  rider  was  off  again,  trying  to  make  up  for 
lost  time. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  he  had  been  behind  on  his  run,  but 
by  way  of  excuse  he  offered  to  Mr.  Chrisman  a  broken-headed 
and  dejected  gentleman  tied  to  a  horse's  back  ;  and  Chrisman, 
with  a  grin,  locked  the  excuse  up  for  future  reference. 

A  few  days  after  this  episode  Will  received  a  letter  from 
Julia,  telling  him  that  mother  was  ill  and  asking  him  to  come 
home.  He  at  once  sought  out  Mr.  Chrisman,  and  giving  his 
reason,  asked  to  be  relieved. 

"I'm  sorry  your  mother  is  sick,"  was  the  answer,  "but 
I'm  glad  something  has  occurred  to  make  you  quit  this  life. 
It's  wearing  you  out,  Billy,  and  you're  too  gritty  to  give  it  up 
without  a  good  reason." 

Will  reached  home  to  find  mother  on  the  high  road  to 
recovery,  over  the  rough  places  of  which  she  passed  swiftly 
with  the  support  of  his  presence.  For  three  weeks  was  he  con- 
tent to  remain  idly  at  home;  then  (it  was  November  of  1860) 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  63 

his  unquiet  spirit  bore  him  away  on  another  trapping  expedi- 
tion ;  this  time  with  a  young  friend  named  David  Phillips. 

They  bought  an  ox  team  and  wagon  to  transport  the  traps, 
camp  outfit  and  provisions,  and  took  along  a  large  supply  of 
ammunition  besides  extra  rifles.  Their  destination  was  the 
Republican  River.  It  coursed  more  than  a  hundred  miles 
from  Leaven  worth,  but  the  country  about  it  was  reputed  rich 
in  beaver.  Will  acted  as  scout  on  the  journey,  going  ahead  to 
pick  out  trails,  locate  camping  grounds  and  look  out  for 
breakers.  The  information  concerning  the  beaver  proved  cor- 
rect; the  game  was  indeed  so  plentiful  that  they  concluded  to 
pitch  a  permanent  camp  and  see  the  winter  out. 

They  chose  a  hollow  in  a  side  hill  and  enlarged  it  to  the 
dimensions  of  a  decent-sized  room.  A  floor  of  logs  was  put 
in,  and  a  chimney  fashioned  of  stones,  the  open  lower  part 
doing  double  duty  as  cook  stove  and  heater;  the  bed  was 
spread  in  the  rear,  and  the  wagon  sheltered  the  entrance.  A 
corral  of  poles  was  built  for  the  oxen,  and  one  corner  of  it  pro- 
tected by  boughs.  Altogether,  they  accounted  their  winter 
quarters  thoroughly  satisfactory  and  agreeable. 

The  boys  had  seen  no  Indians  on  their  trip  out,  and  were 
not  concerned  in  that  quarter,  though  they  were  too  good 
plainsmen  to  relax  their  vigilance.  There  were  other  foes,  as 
they  discovered  the  first  night  in  their  new  quarters.  They 
were  aroused  by  a  commotion  in  the  corral  where  the  oxen 
were  confined,  and  hurrying  out  with  their  rifles,  they  found 
a  huge  bear  intent  upon  a  feast  of  beef.  The  oxen  were  bel- 
lowing in  terror,  one  of  them  dashing  crazily  about  the  en- 
closure, and  the  other  so  badly  hurt  that  it  could  not  get  up. 

Phillips,  who  was  in  the  lead,  fired  first,  but  succeeded  only 
in  wounding  the  bear.  Pain  was  now  added  to  the  savagery 
of  hunger,  and  the  infuriated  monster  rushed  upon  Phillips. 
Dave  leaped  back,  but  his  foot  slipped  on  a  bit  of  ice,  and  he 
went  down  with  a  thud,  his  rifle  flying  from  his  hand  as  he 
struck. 

But  there  was  a  cool  young  head  and  a  steady  hand  behind 


64  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

him.  A  ball  from  Will's  rifle  entered  the  distended  mouth  of 
the  onrushing  bear  and  pierced  the  brain,  and  the  huge  mass 
fell  lifeless  almost  across  Dave's  body. 

Phillips' s  nerves  loosened  with  a  snap,  and  he  laughed  for 
very  relief  as  he  seized  Will's  hands. 

"That's  the  time  you  saved  my  life,  old  fellow  !"  said  he. 
"Perhaps  I  can  do  as  much  for  you  some  time." 

"That's  the  first  bear  I  ever  killed,"  said  Will,  more  inter- 
ested in  that  topic  than  in  the  one  Dave  held  forth  on. 

One  of  the  oxen  was  found  to  be  mortally  hurt,  and  a  bullet 
ended  its  misery.  Will  then  took  his  first  lesson  in  the  gentle 
art  of  skinning  a  bear. 

Dave's  chance  to  square  his  account  with  Will  came  a  fort- 
night later.  They  were  chasing  a  bunch  of  elk,  when  Will 
fell,  and  discovered  that  he  could  not  rise. 

4 'I'm  afraid  I've  broken  my  leg,"  said  he,  as  Dave  ran  to 
him. 

Phillips  had  once  been  a  medical  student,  and  he  examined 
the  leg  with  a  professional  eye.  "You're  right,  Billy;  the 
leg's  broken,"  he  reported. 

Then  he  went  to  work  to  improvise  splints  and  bind  up  the 
leg;  and  this  done,  he  took  Will  on  his  back  and  bore  him  to 
the  dugout.  Here  the  leg  was  stripped  and  set  in  carefully 
prepared  splints,  and  the  whole  bound  up  securely. 

The  outlook  was  unpleasant,  cheerfully  as  one  might  regard 
it.  Living  in  the  scoop  of  a  side-hill  when  one  is  strong  and 
able  to  get  about  and  keep  the  blood  coursing,  is  one  thing; 
living  there  pent  up  through  a  tedious  winter,  is  quite  another. 
Dave  meditated  as  he  worked  away  at  the  pair  of  crutches. 

"Tell  you  what  I  think  I'd  better  do,"  said  he.  "The 
nearest  settlement  is  some  hundred  miles  away,  and  I  can  get 
there  and  back  in  twenty  days.  Suppose  I  make  the  trip,  get 
a  team  for  our  wagon,  and  come  back  for  you  ?" 

The  idea  of  being  left  alone  and  well-nigh  helpless  struck 
dismay  to  Will's  heart,  but  there  was  no  help  for  it.  and  he 
assented.  Dave  put  matters  into  ship  shape,  piled  wood  in 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  65 

the  dugout,  cooked  a  quantity  of  food  and  put  it  where  Will 
could  reach  it  without  rising,  and  fetched  several  days'  supply 
of  water.  Mother,  ever  mindful  of  Will's  education,  had  put 
some  school  books  in  the  wagon,  and  Dave  placed  these  beside 
the  food  and  water.  When  Phillips  finally  set  out,  driving 
the  surviving  ox  before  him,  he  left  behind  a  very  lonely  and 
homesick  boy. 

During  the  first  day  of  his  confinement  Will  felt  too  desolate 
to  eat,  much  less  read,  but  as  he  grew  accustomed  to  solitude 
he  derived  real  pleasure  from  the  companionship  of  books. 
Perhaps  in  all  his  life  he  never  extracted  so  much  benefit  from 
study  as  during  that  brief  period  of  enforced  idleness,  when  it 
was  his  sole  means  of  making  the  dragging  hours  endurable. 
Dave,  he  knew,  could  not  return  in  less  than  twenty  days,  and 
one  daily  task,  never  neglected,  was  to  cut  a  notch  in  the  stick 
that  marked  the  humdrum  passage  of  the  days.  Within  the 
week  he  could  hobble  about  on  his  crutches  for  a  short  dis- 
tance; after  that  he  felt  more  secure. 

A  fortnight  passed.  And  one  day,  weary  with  his  studies, 
he  fell  asleep  over  his  books.  Some  one  touched  his  shoulder, 
and  looking  up,  he  saw  an  Indian  in  war  paint  and  feathers. 

"  How?  "  said  Will,  with  a  show  of  friendliness,  though  he 
knew  the  brave  was  on  the  war-path. 

Half  a  score  of  bucks  followed  at  the  heels  of  the  first,  squeez- 
ing into  the  little  dugout  until  there  was  barely  room  for  them 
to  sit  down. 

With  a  sinking  heart  Will  watched  them  enter,  but  he 
plucked  up  spirit  again  when  the  last,  a  chief,  pushed  in,  for 
in  this  warrior  he  recognized  an  Indian  that  he  had  once  done 
a  good  turn. 

Whatever  Ix>'s  faults,  he  never  forgets  a  kindness,  any  more 
than  he  forgets  an  injury.  The  chief,  who  went  by  the  name 
of  Rain-in- the-Face,  at  once  recognized  Will,  and  asked  him 
what  he  was  doing  in  that  place .  Will  displayed  his  bandages 
and  related  the  mishap  that  had  made  them  necessary,  and 
refreshed  the  chief's  memory  of  a  certain  occasion  when  a 


66  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

blanket  and  provisions  had  drifted  his  way.  Rain-in-the-Face 
replied,  with  proper  gravity,  that  he  and  his  chums  were  out 
after  scalps,  and  confessed  to  designs  upon  Will's,  but  in 
consideration  of  Auld  I/ang  Syne  he  would  spare  the  pale-face 
boy. 

Auld  I^ang  Syne,  however,  did  not  save  the  blankets  and 
provisions,  and  the  bedizened  crew  stripped  the  dugout  almost 
bare  of  supplies ;  but  Will  was  thankful  enough  to  see  the  back 
of  the  last  of  them. 

Two  days  later  a  blizzard  set  in.  Will  took  an  inventory 
and  found  that,  economy  considered,  he  had  food  for  a  week  ; 
but  as  the  storm  would  surely  delay  Dave  he  put  himself  on 
half  rations. 

Three  weeks  were  now  gone  and  he  looked  for  Dave  mo- 
mentarily ;  but  as  night  followed  day,  and  day  grew  into  night 
again,  he  was  given  over  to  keen  anxiety.  Had  Phillips 
lost  his  way  ?  Had  he  failed  to  locate  the  snow-covered  dug- 
out ?  Had  he  perished  in  the  storm  ?  Had  he  fallen  victim  to 
Indians  ?  These  and  like  questions  haunted  the  poor  lad  con- 
tinually. Study  became  impossible, and  he  lost  his  appetite  for 
what  food  there  was  left ;  but  the  tally  on  the  stick  was  kept . 

The  twenty-ninth  day  dawned.  Starvation  stalked  into  the 
dugout.  The  wood,  too,  was  nigh  gone.  But  great  as  was 
Will's  physical  suffering,  his  mental  distress  was  greater.  He 
sat  before  a  handful  of  fire,  shivering  and  hungry,  wretched 
and  despondent. 

Hark  !  Was  that  his  name  ?  Choking  with  emotion,  unable 
to  articulate,  he  listened  intently.  Yes  !  it  was  his  name,  and 
Dave's  familiar  voice,  and  with  all  his  remaining  energy  he 
made  an  answering  call. 

His  voice  enabled  Phillips  to  locate  the  dugout,  and  a  pas- 
sage was  cleared  through  the  snow.  And  when  Will  saw  the 
door  open  the  tension  on  his  nerves  let  go,  and  he  wept — 
"like  a  girl,"  as  he  afterward  told  us. 

"  God  bless  you,  Dave!  "  he  cried,  as  he  clasped  his  friend 
around  the  neck. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  67 

"I  told  you  my  time  would  come,"  said  Phillips.  ''We 
can  call  it  quits." 

"Shooting  a  bear  is  sport,"  answered  Will,  "but  you 
have  dug  through  snowdrifts,  endured  suffering  and  risked 
your  life  to  help  me.  I'm  in  your  debt,  and  always  shall  be." 

Dave's  comment  was  to  prepare  a  square  meal,  which  was 
mutually  relished,  and  during  its  discussion  the  boys  com- 
pared notes.  When  Will  reached  the  incident  of  the  Indian 
raid  Dave  cried  excitedty,  "Bid  they  steal  our  pelts?"  and 
rushed  from  the  dugout,  but  the  pelts  were  safe  where  they 
had  been  hidden. 

Such  slow  and  laborious  traveling  was  promised  by  the  deep 
snow  that  the  boys  concluded  to  remain  in  camp  until  winter 
broke.  Dave  attended  to  the  traps  while  Will  hobbled  about  in- 
doors and  did  the  cooking.  The  broken  leg  was  nearly 
mended  when  the  weather  suffered  them  to  depart  for  home. 

They  paid  for  the  hired  ox  in  skins  at  the  ranch  that  Dave 
had  visited,  and  pushing  on  to  Junction  City,  they  sold  their 
entire  outfit,  pelts  included,  for  a  good  price.  Then  they 
joined  a  wagon  train  and  were  soon  at  home. 

Will  had  become  so  attached  to  Phillips  that,  at  his  instance, 
mother  asked  the  young  man  to  remain  with  us  as  overseer  of 
the  farm.  He  consented  willingly,  but  the  winter's  roughing 
it  had  been  too  great  a  draft  upon  his  vitality.  A  cold  set- 
tled on  his  lungs  and  developed  into  pneumonia,  and  after  an 
illness  of  five  days,  in  which  he  was  nursed  as  one  of  the  fam- 
ily, he  died.  Will's  sorrow  was  intense,  and  the  whole  house- 
hold was  shadowed  by  the  sudden  death.  We  had  adopted 
Will's  friend  as  our  own,  and  his  remains  were  placed  in  our 
family  burying  ground. 


CHAPTER  X. 


ECHOES  FROM  SUMTER  —  A  STATION  ON  THE  UNDERGROUND 
RAILWAY  —  UNCLE  TOM  AND  HIS  SUFFERINGS  —  WILL  DROPS 
HIS  FIRST  BUFFALO,  AND  SAVES  A  LIFE  —  WITH  THE  PONY 
EXPRESS  AGAIN  —  CALIFORNIA  JOE  —  INDIAN  TROUBLES  — 
WILD 


|  HE  guns  that  opened  on  Fort 
Sumter  set  the  country  all 
ablaze.  In  Kansas,  where 
blood  had  already  been  shed, 
the  excitement  was  at  an  ex- 
traordinary pitch.  Will  was 
for  enlisting,  but  mother  would 
not  listen  to  the  idea. 

My  brother  had  never  for- 
gotten the  vow  made  over 
father's  prostrate  form,  to 
wreak  vengeance  upon  his 
murderer  and  the  men  who  had 
hounded  him  to  his  grave,  and 
when  the  vow  chafed  his  spirit 
mother  would  expostulate  with 
him,  and  point  out  that  'twere  murder  to  take  their  lives,  what- 
ever the  provocation.  But  now,  with  the  coming  of  war,  his 
opportunity  was  seemingly  ripe  and  lawful  ;  he  could  at  least 
take  up  arms  against  his  old-time  enemies,  and  at  the  same 
time  serve  his  country.  This  aspect  of  the  case  was  presented 
to  mother  in  glowing  colors,  backed  by  most  eloquent  plead- 
ing, but  she  remained  obdurate. 

"  You  are  too  young  to  enlist,  Willie,"  she  said.     "They 
would  not  accept  you,  and  if  they  did  I  could  not  endure  it.    I 
68 


LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  69 

have  only  a  little  time  to  live,  for  my  sake,  then,  wait  till  I  am 
no  more  before  you  enter  the  army. ' ' 

This  request  was  not  to  be  disregarded,  and  Will  promised 
that  he  would  not  enlist  while  mother  lived. 

Kansas  had  long  been  the  scene  of  bitter  strife  between  the 
two  parties,  and  though  there  was  a  preponderance  of  the  Free- 
Soil  element  when  it  was  admitted  to  the  Union  in  1861,  we 
were  fated  to  see  somewhat  of  the  horrors  of  slavery.  Suffer- 
ing makes  one  wondrous  kind  ;  mother  had  suffered  so  much 
herself  that  the  misery  of  others  ever  vibrated  a  chord  of  sym- 
pathy in  her  breast,  and  our  house  became  a  station  on  "the 
underground  railway."  Many  a  fugitive  slave  did  we  shelter, 
many  here  received  food  and  clothing,  and  aided  by  mother,  a 
great  number  reached  safe  harbors. 

One  old  man,  named  Uncle  Tom,  became  so  much  attached 
to  us  that  he  refused  to  go  on.  We  kept  him  as  help  about 
the  hotel,  always  giving  him  work  that  could  be  done  privately. 
He  was  with  us  several  months,  and  we  children  grew  very 
fond  of  him.  Every  evening  when  supper  was  over,  he  sat 
before  the  kitchen  fire  and  told  a  breathless  audience  strange 
stories  of  the  days  of  slavery.  And  one  evening,  never  to  be 
forgotten,  Uncle  Tom  was  sitting  in  his  acccustomed  place  sur- 
rounded by  his  juvenile  listeners,  when  he  suddenly  sprang  to 
his  feet  with  a  cry  of  terror.  Some  men  had  entered  the  hotel 
sitting-room,  and  the  sound  of  their  voices  drove  Uncle  Tom 
to  his  own  little  room,  and  under  the  bed. 

"  Mrs.  Cody,"  said  the  unwelcome  visitors,  "  we  understand 
that  you  are  harboring  our  runaway  slaves.  We  propose  to 
search  the  premises  ;  and  if  we  find  our  property  you  cannot 
object  to  our  removing  it." 

Mother  was  sorely  distressed  for  the  unhappy  Uncle  Tom, 
but  she  knew  objection  would  be  futile.  She-could  only  hope 
that  the  old  colored  man  had  made  good  his  escape. 

But  no  !  Uncle  Tom  lay  quaking  under  his  bed,  and  there 
his  brutal  master  found  him.  It  is  not  impossible  that  there 
were  slaveholders  kind  and  humane,  but  the  bitter  curse  of 


70  LAST  OK  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

slavery  was  the  open  door  it  left  for  brutality  and  inhumanity, 
and  never  shall  I  forget  the  barbarity  divSplayed  by  the  owner 
of  Uncle  Tom  before  our  horrified  eyes.  The  poor  slave  was 
so  old  that  his  hair  was  wholly  white,  yet  a  rope  was  tied  to  it, 
and  despite  our  pleadings  he  was  dragged  from  the  house,  every 
cry  he  uttered  evoking  only  a  savage  kick  from  a  heavy  riding 
boot.  When  he  was  out  of  sight  and  his  screams  out  of  hear- 
ing, we  wept  bitterly  on  mother's  loving  breast. 

Uncle  Tom  again  escaped  and  made  his  way  to  our  house, 
but  he  reached  it  only  to  die.  We  sorrowed  for  the  poor  old 
slave,  but  thanked  God  that  he  had  passed  beyond  the  inhu- 
manity of  man. 

Debarred  from  serving  his  country  as  a  soldier,  Will  decided 
to  do  so  in  some  other  capacity,  and  accordingly  took  service 
with  a  United  States  freight  caravan,  transporting  supplies  to 
Fort  lyaramie.  On  this  trip  his  frontier  training  and  skill  as  a 
marksman  were  the  means  of  saving  a  life. 

In  Western  travel  the  perils  from  outlaws  and  Indians  were 
so  real  that  emigrants  usually  sought  the  protection  of  a  large 
wagon  train.  Several  families  of  emigrants  journeyed  under 
the  wing  of  the  caravan  to  which  Will  was  attached. 

When  in  camp  one  day  upon  the  bank  of  the  Platte  River, 
and  the  members  of  the  company  were  busied  with  preparations 
for  the  night's  rest  and  the  next  day's  journey,  Mamie  Perkins, 
a  little  girl  from  one  of  the  emigrant  families,  was  sent  to  the 
river  for  a  pail  of  water,  a  moment  before  a  monster  buffalo  was 
seen  rushing  upon  the  camp.  A  chorus  of  yells  and  a  fusilade 
from  rifles  and  revolvers  neither  checked  nor  swerved  him. 
Straight  through  the  camp  he  swept  like  a  cyclone,  leaping 
ropes  and  boxes,  overturning  wagons,  and  smashing  things 
generally. 

Mamie,  the  little  water-bearer,  had  filled  her  pail  and  was  re- 
turning in  the  track  selected  by  the  buffalo.  Too  terrified  to 
move,  she  watched,  with  white  face  and  parted  lips,  the  mad- 
dened animal  sweep  toward  her,  head  down  and  tail  up,  its 
hoofs  beating  a  thunderous  tattoo  on  the  plain. 


LAST   OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  71 

Will  had  been  asleep,  but  the  commotion  brought  him  to  his 
feet,  and  snatching  up  his  rifle  he  ran  toward  the  little  girl. 
The  hope  aroused  in  the  camp  by  this  action  vanished  as  Will 
swerved  to  one  side.  But  the  move  was  to  enable  him  to  take 
aim  at  the  forehead  of  the  buffalo.  All  buffalo  hunters  know 
that  the  only  vulnerable  point  of  the  monarch  of  the  prairie  is 
a  little  spot  between  the  eyes.  Will,  who  was  running,  sud- 
denly turned,  brought  up  his  rifle,  and  fired.  The  buffalo 
lurched,  staggered  a  few  yards  farther,  then  dropped  within 
half  a  dozen  feet  of  the  terrified  child. 

A  shout  of  relief  went  up,  and  while  a  crowd  of  praising 
men  gathered  about  the  embryo  buffalo  hunter,  Mamie  was 
taken  to  her  mother,  who  had  swooned.  When  she  recovered 
consciousness,  Mrs.  Perkins  and  her  husband  were  voluble 
in  their  thanks  and  admiration.  Will  never  relished  hearing 
his  praises  sung,  and  as  the  camp  was  determined  to  pedestal 
him  as  a  hero,  ran  away  and  hid  in  his  tent. 

Upon  reaching  Fort  I^aramie  Will's  first  business  was  to 
look  up  Alf  Slade,  agent  of  the  Pony  Express  line,  whose 
headquarters  were  at  Horseshoe  Station,  twenty  miles  from  the 
fort.  He  carried  a  letter  of  recommendation  from  Mr.  Russell, 
but  Slade  demurred. 

"You're  too  young  for  a  Pony  Express  rider,"  said  he. 

"I  rode  three  months  a  year  ago,  sir,  and  I'm  much 
stronger  now/ '  said  Will. 

"  Oh,  are  you  the  boy  rider  that  was  on  Chrisman's  divi- 
sion?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  All  right,  I'll  try  you.  If  you  can't  stand  it  I'll  give  you 
something  easier." 

Will's  run  was  from  Red  Buttes,  on  the  North  Platte,  to 
Three  Crossings,  on  the  Sweetwater — seventy-six  miles. 

The  wilderness  was  of  the  kind- that  is  supposed  to  howl, 
and  no  person  fond  of  excitement  had  reason  to  complain  of 
lack  of  it.  One  day  Will  arrived  at  his  last  station  to  find  that 
the  rider  on  the  next  run  had  been  mortally  hurt  by  Indians. 


72  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

There  being  no  one  else  to  do  it,  he  volunteered  to  ride  the 
eighty-five  miles  for  the  wounded  man.  He  accomplished  it, 
and  made  his  own  return  trip  on  time — a  continuous  ride  of 
three  hundred  and  twenty-two  miles.  There  was  no  rest  for 
the  rider,  but  twenty-one  horses  were  used  on  the  run — the 
longest  ever  made  by  a  Pony  Express  rider. 

Shortly  afterward  Will  fell  in  with  California  Joe,  a  remark- 
able frontier  character.  He  was  standing  beside  a  group  of 
boulders  that  edged  the  trail  when  Will  first  clapped  eyes  on 
him,  and  the  Pony  Expressman  instantly  reached  for  his  re- 
volver. The  stranger  as  quickly  dropped  his  rifle  and  held  up 
his  hands  in  token  of  friendliness.  Will  drew  rein  and  ran  an 
interested  eye  over  the  man,  who  was  clad  in  buckskin. 

California  Joe,  who  was  made  famous  in  General  Custer's 
book  entitled  ' '  Life  on  the  Plains, ' '  was  a  man  of  wonderful 
physique,  straight  and  stout  as  a  pine.  His  red-brown  hair 
hung  in  curls  below  his  shoulders ;  he  wore  a  full  beard,  and 
his  keen,  sparkling  eyes  were  of  the  brightest  hue.  He  came 
from  an  Eastern  family,  and  possessed  a  good  education,  some- 
what rusty  from  disuse. 

"Hain't  you  the  boy  rider  I  has  heard  of — the  youngest 
rider  on  the  trail?"  he  queried,  in  the  border  dialect.  Will 
made  an  affirmative  answer,  and  gave  his  name. 

"Waal,"  said  Joe,  "I  guess  you've  got  some  money  on  this 
trip.  I  was  strikin'  fer  the  Big  Horn,  and  I  found  them  two 
stiffs  up  yonder  layin'  fer  ye.  We  had  a  little  misunder- 
standing and  now  I  has  'em  to  plant." 

Will  thanked  him  warmly,  and  begged  him  not  to  risk  the 
perils  of  the  Big  Horn ;  but  California  Joe  only  laughed,  and 
told  him  to  push  ahead. 

When  Will  reached  his  station  he  related  his  adventure,  and 
the  stock-tender  said  it  was  "good-bye,  California  Joe."  But 
Will  had  conceived  a  better  opinion  of  his  new  friend,  and  he 
predicted  his  safe  return. 

This  confidence  was  justified  by  the  appearance  of  California 
Joe,  three  months  later,  in  the  camp  of  the  Pony  Riders  on  the 


LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  73 

Overland  trail.  He  received  a  cordial  greeting,  and  was  as- 
sured by  the  men  that  they  had  not  expected  to  see  him  alive 
again.  In  return  he  told  them  his  story,  and  a  very  interest- 
ing story  it  was. 

"  Some  time  ago,"  said  he  (I  shall  not  attempt  to  reproduce 
his  dialect)  ' '  a  big  gang  of  gold-hunters  went  into  the  Big 
Horn  country.  They  never  returned,  and  the  general  sent 
me  to  see  if  I  could  get  any  trace  of  them.  The  country  is  full 
of  Indians,  and  I  kept  my  eye  skinned  for  them,  but  I  wasn't 
looking  for  trouble  from  white  men.  I  happened  to  leave  my 
revolver  where  I  ate  dinner  one  day, and  soon  after  discovering 
the  loss  I  went  back  after  the  gun.  Just  as  I  picked  it  up  I 
saw  a  white  man  on  my  trail.  I  smelled  trouble,  but  turned 
and  jogged  along  as  if  I  hadn't  seen  anything.  That  night  I 
doubled  back  over  my  trail  until  I  came  to  the  camp  where  the 
stranger  belonged.  As  I  expected,  he  was  one  of  a  party  of 
three,  but  they  had  five  horses.  I'll  bet  odds,  Pard  Billy  "— 
this  to  Will — "  that  the  two  pilgrims  laying  for  you  belonged 
to  this  outfit. 

"  They  thought  I'd  found  gold,  and  were  going  to  followme 
until  I  struck  the  mine,  then  do  me  up  and  take  possession. 

"The  gold  is  there,  too,  lots  of  it.  There's  silver,  iron,  cop- 
per and  coal,  too,  but  no  one  will  look  at  them  so  long  as  gold 
is  to  be  had  ;  but  those  that  go  for  gold  will,  many  of  them, 
leave  their  scalps  behind. 

' '  We  kept  the  trail  day  after  day  ;  the  men  stuck  right  to 
me,  the  chap  ahead  keeping  me  in  sight  and  marking  out  the 
trail  for  his  pard.  When  we  got  into  the  heart  of  the  Indian 
country  I  had  to  use  every  caution  ;  I  steered  clear  of  every 
smoke  that  showed  a  village  or  camp,  and  didn't  use  my  rifle 
on  game,  depending  on  the  rations  I  had  with  me. 

'  'At  last  I  came  to  a  spot  that  showed  signs  of  a  battle. 
Skulls  and  bones  were  strewn  around,  and  after  a  look  about  I 
was  satisfied  beyond  doubt  that  white  men  had  been  of  the 
company.  The  purpose  of  my  trip  was  accomplished  ;  I  could 
safely  report  that  the  party  of  whites  had  been  exterminated 
by  Indians. 


74  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

"  The  question  now  was,  could  I  return  without  running 
into  Indians  ?  The  first  thing  was  to  give  my  white  pursuers 
the  slip. 

"  That  night  I  crept  down  the  bed  of  a  small  stream,  passed 
their  camp,  and  struck  the  trail  a  half  mile  or  so  below. 

"  It  was  the  luckiest  move  I  ever  made.  I  had  ridden  but 
a  short  distance  when  I  heard  the  familiar  war-whoop,  and 
knew  that  the  Indians  had  surprised  my  unpleasant  acquaint- 
ances and  taken  their  scalps.  I  should  have  shared  the  same 
fate  if  I  hadn't  moved. 

"  But,  boys,  it  is  a  grand  and  beautiful  country,  full  of  tow- 
ering mountains,  lovely  valleys  and  mighty  trees." 

About  the  middle  of  September  the  Indians  became  very 
troublesome  along  the  Sweetwater.  Will  was  ambushed 
one  day,  but  fortunately  he  was  mounted  on  one  of  the  fleetest 
of  the  company's  horses  and,  lying  flat  on  the  animal's  back, 
he  distanced  the  redskins.  At  the  relay  station  he  found  the 
stock-tender  dead,  and  as  the  horses  had  been  driven  off,  he 
was  unable  to  get  a  fresh  mount,  so  he  rode  the  same  horse  to 
Plontz  Station,  twelve  miles  farther. 

A  few  days  later  the  station  boss  of  the  line  hailed  Will  with 
the  information  : 

"  There's  Injun  signs  about,  so  keep  your  eyes  open." 

"I'm  on  the  watch,  boss,"  was  Will's  answer,  as  he  ex- 
changed ponies  and  dashed  away. 

The  trail  ran  through  a  grim  wild.  It  was  darkened  by 
mountains,  overhung  with  cliffs,  and  fringed  with  monster 
pines.  The  young  rider's  every  sense  had  been  sharpened  by 
frontier  dangers.  Each  dusky  rock  and  tree  was  scanned  for 
signs  of  lurking  foes  as  he  clattered  down  the  twilight  track. 

One  large  boulder  lay  in  plain  view  far  down  the  valley, 
and  for  a  second  he  saw  a  dark  object  appear  above  it. 

He  kept  his  course  until  within  rifle  shot,  and  then  suddenly 
Swerved  away  in  an  oblique  line.  The  ambush  had  failed,  and 
a  puff  of  smoke  issued  from  behind  the  boulder.  Two  braves 
in  gorgeous  war  paint  sprang  up,  and  at  the  same  time  a  score 


LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  75 

of  whooping  Indians  rode  out  of  the  timber  on  the  other  side 
of  the  valley. 

Before  Will  the  mountains  sloped  to  a  narrow  pass  ;  could 
he  reach  that  he  would  be  comparatively  safe.  The  Indians 
at  the  boulder  were  unmounted,  and  though  they  were  fleet  of 
foot  he  easily  left  them  behind.  The  mounted  reds  were  those 
to  be  feared,  and  the  chief  rode  a  very  fleet  pony.  As  they  neared 
the  pass  Will  saw  that  it  was  life  against  life.  He  drew  his 
revolver,  and  the  chief,  for  his  part,  fitted  an  arrow  to  his  bow. 

Will  was  a  shade  the  quicker.  His  revolver  cracked,  and  the 
warrior  pitched  dead  from  his  saddle.  His  fall  was  the  signal 
fora  shower  of  arrows,  one  of  which  wounded  the  pony  slightly; 
but  the  station  was  reached  on  time. 

The  Indians  were  now  in  evidence  all  the  time.  Between 
Split  Rock  and  Three  Crossings  they  robbed  a  stage,  killed 
the  driver  and  two  passengers,  and  wounded  Lieutenant  Flow- 
ers, the  assistant  division  agent.  They  drove  the  stock  from 
the  stations,  and  continually  harassed  the  Pony  Express  riders 
and  stage  drivers.  So  bold  did  the  reds  become  that  the  Pony 
riders  were  laid  off  for  six  weeks,  though  stages  were  to  make 
occasional  runs  if  the  business  were  urgent.  A  force  was  or- 
ganized to  search  for  missing  stock.  There  were  forty  men  in 
the  party — stage  drivers,  express  riders,  stock-tenders  and 
ranchmen  ;  and  they  were  captained  by  a  plainsman  named 
Wild  Bill,  who  was  a  good  friend  of  Will's  for  many  years. 

He  had  not  earned  the  sobriquet  through  lawlessness.  It 
merely  denoted  his  dashing  and  daring.  Physically,  he  was 
well-nigh  faultless — tall,  straight  and  symmetrical,  with  broad 
shoulders  and  splendid  chest.  He  was  handsome  of  face,  with 
a  clear  blue  eye,  firm  and  well-shaped  mouth,  aquiline  nose, 
and  brown,  curling  hair,  worn  long  upon  his  shoulders.  Born 
of  a  refined  and  cultured  family  he,  like  Will,  seemingly  in- 
herited from  some  remote  ancestor  his  passion  for  the  wild, 
free  life  of  the  plains. 

At  this  time  Wild  Bill  was  a  well-known  scout,  and  in  this 
capacity  served  the  United  States  to  good  purpose  during  the 
war. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  "BLACK  WATER,"  AND  THE  RETRIBUTION — 
A  SHORT  BUT  DASHING  INDIAN  CAMPAIGN — A  BEAR  HUNT 
WITHOUT  A  BEA  R— IN  A  DEN  OF  HORSE  THIEVES— WHAT 
CAME  OF  PICKING  UP  SAGE  HENS — GOVERNMENT  FREIGHT- 
ING. 

S  Will  was  one  of  the  laid -off 
riders  he  was  allowed  to  join 
the  expedition  against  the  In- 
dian depredators,  though  he 
was  the  youngest  member  of 
the  company  by  perhaps  twice 
his  years. 

The  campaign  was  short  and 
sharp.  The  Indian  trail  was 
followed  to  Powder  River,  and 
thence  along  the  banks  of  the 
stream  the  party  traveled  to 
within  forty  miles  of  the  spot 
where  old  Fort  Reno  now 
stands  ;  from  here  the  trail  ran  westerly,  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountains,  and  was  crossed  by  Crazy  Woman's  Fork,  a  tribu- 
tary of  the  Powder. 

Originally  this  branch  stream  went  by  the  name  of  the  Big 
Beard,  because  of  a  peculiar  grass  that  fringed  it.  On  its  bank 
had  stood  a  village  of  the  Crow  Indians,  and  here  a  half-breed 
trader  came  and  settled.  He  bought  the  red  man's  furs  and 
gave  him  in  return  bright  colored  beads,  and  pieces  of  calico, 
and  paints,  and  blankets.  In  a  short  time  he  had  all  the  furs 
in  the  village  ;  he  packed  them  on  ponies  and  said  good-bye  to 
76 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  77 

his  Indian  friends.  They  were  sorry  to  see  him  go,  but  he  told 
them  he  would  soon  return  from  the  land  of  the  pale-face  bring- 
ing many  gifts.  Months  passed  ;  one  day  the  Indian  sentinels 
reported  the  approach  of  a  strange  object.  The  village  was 
alarmed,  for  the  Crows  had  never  seen  ox,  horse  or  wagon;  but 
the  excitement  was  allayed  when  it  was  found  that  the  strange 
outfit  was  the  property  of  the  half-breed  trader. 

He  had  brought  with  him  his  wife,  a  white  woman ;  she, 
too,  was  an  object  of  much  curiosity  to  the  Indians. 

The  trader  built  a  lodge  of  wood  and  stones,  and  exposed 
all  his  goods  for  sale.  He  had  brought  beads,  ribbons  and  brass 
rings  as  gifts  for  all  the  tribe. 

One  day  the  big  chief  visited  the  store  :  the  trader  led  him 
into  a  back  room,  swore  him  to  secrecy,  and  gave  him  a  drink 
of  black  water.  The  chief  felt  strangely  happy.  Usually  he 
was  very  dignified  and  stately  ;  but  under  the  influence  of  the 
strange  liquid  he  sang  and  danced  on  the  streets,  and  finally 
fell  into  a  deep  sleep  from  which  he  could  not  be  wakened. 
This  performance  was  repeated  day  after  day  until  the  Indians 
called  a  council  of  war.  They  said  the  trader  had  bewitched 
their  chief  and  it  must  be  stopped,  or  they  would  kill  the  in- 
truder. A  warrior  was  sent  to  convey  this  intelligence  to  the 
trader  ;  he  laughed,  took  the  warrior  into  the  back  room, 
swore  him  to  secrecy,  and  gave  him  a  drink  of  the  black  water. 
The  young  Indian  in  his  turn  went  upon  the  street  and  laughed 
and  sang  and  danced,  just  as  the  chief  had  done.  Surprised, 
his  companions  gathered  around  him  and  asked  him  what  was 
the  matter.  "Oh,  go  to  the  trader  and  get  some  of  the  black 
water  !"  said  he. 

They  asked  for  the  strange  beverage.  The  trader  denied 
having  any,  and  gave  them  a  drink  of  ordinary  water,  which 
had  no  effect.  When  the  young  warrior  awoke,  they  again 
questioned  him.  He  said  he  must  have  been  sick,  and  have 
spoken  loosely. 

After  this  the  chief  and  warrior  were  both  drunk  every  day, 
and  the  tribe  were  sorely  perplexed.  Another  council  of  war 


78  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

was  held,  and  a  young  chief  arose,  saying  that  he  had  made  a 
hole  in  the  wall  of  the  trader's  house,  and  had  watched  ;  and 
it  was  true  the  trader  gave  their  friends  black  water.  The  half- 
breed  and  the  two  unhappy  Indians  were  brought  before  the 
council,  and  the  young  chief  repeated  his  accusation,  saying 
that  if  it  were  not  true,  they  might  fight  him.  The  second 
victim  of  the  black  water  yet  denied  the  story,  and  said  the 
young  chief  lied  ;  but  the  trader  had  maneuvered  into  the  po- 
sition he  desired,  and  he  confessed.  They  bade  him  bring  the 
water  that  they  might  taste  it ;  but  before  he  departed  the 
young  chief  challenged  to  combat  the  warrior  that  had  said  he 
lied.  This  warrior  was  the  best  spearsman  of  the  tribe,  and 
all  expected  the  death  of  the  young  chief  ;  but  the  black  water 
had  palsied  the  warrior's  arm,  his  trembling  hand  could  not 
fling  true,  he  was  pierced  to  the  heart  at  the  first  thrust.  The 
tribe  then  repaired  to  the  trader's  lodge,  and  he  gave  them  all 
a  drink  of  the  black  water.  They  danced  and  sang,  and  then 
lay  upon  the  ground  and  slept. 

After  two  or  three  days  the  half-breed  declined  to  provide 
black  water  free  ;  if  the  warriors  wanted  it,  they  must  pay  for 
it.  At  first  he  gave  them  a  "  sleep  "  as  they  called  it,  for  one 
robe  or  skin,  but  as  the  stock  of  black  water  diminished,  two, 
then  three,  then  many  robes  were  demanded.  At  last  he  said 
he  had  none  left  except  what  he  himself  desired.  The  Indians 
offered  their  ponies,  until  the  trader  had  all  the  robes  and  all 
the  ponies  of  the  tribe. 

Now,  he  said,  he  would  go  back  to  the  land  of  the  pale-face, 
and  procure  more  of  the  black  water.  Some  of  the  warriors 
were  willing  he  should  do  this  ;  others  asserted  that  he  had 
plenty  of  black  water  left,  and  was  going  to  trade  with  their 
enemy  the  Sioux.  The  devil  had  awakened  in  the  tribe.  The 
trader's  stores  and  packs  were  searched,  but  no  black  water 
was  found.  'Twas  hidden,  then,  said  the  Indians.  The  trader 
must  produce  it,  or  they  would  kill  him.  Of  course  he  could 
not  do  this.  He  had  sowed  the  wind ;  he  reaped  the  whirl- 
wind. He  was  scalped  before  the  eyes  of  his  horrified  wife,  and 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  79 

his  body  mutilated  and  mangled.  The  poor  woman  attempted 
to  escape ;  a  warrior  struck  her  with  his  tomahawk,  and  she 
fell  as  if  dead.  The  Indians  fired  the  lodge.  As  they  did  so, 
a  Crow  squaw  saw  that  the  white  woman  was  not  dead.  She 
took  the  wounded  creature  to  her  own  lodge,  bound  up  her 
wounds  and  nursed  her  back  to  strength.  But  the  unfor- 
tunate woman's  brain  was  crazed,  and  could  not  bear  the  sight 
of  a  warrior. 

As  soon  as  she  could  get  around  she  ran  away.  The  squaws 
went  out  to  look  for  her,  and  found  her  crooning  on  the  banks 
of  the  Big  Beard.  She  would  talk  with  the  squaws,  but  if  a 
warrior  appeared  she  hid  herself  till  he  was  gone.  The 
squaws  took  her  food,  and  she  lived  in  a  covert  on  the  bank 
of  the  stream  for  many  months.  One  day  a  warrior  out  hunt- 
ing chanced  upon  her.  Thinking  she  was  lost,  he  sought  to 
catch  her  to  take  her  back  to  the  village,  as  all  Indian  tribes 
have  a  veneration  for  the  insane;  but  she  fled  into  the  hills, 
and  was  never  seen  afterward.  The  stream  became  known  as 
the  "Place  of  the  Crazy  Woman,"  or  Crazy  Woman's  Fork, 
and  has  retained  the  name  to  this  day. 

At  this  point — to  return  to  my  narrative — the  signs  indi- 
cated that  reinforcements  had  reached  the  original  body  of 
Indians.  The  plainsmen  were  now  in  the  heart  of  the  Indian 
country,  the  utmost  caution  was  required,  and  a  sharp  look- 
out was  maintained.  When  Clear  Creek,  another  tributary 
of  the  Powder,  was  come  up  with,  an  Indian  camp,  some  three 
miles  distant,  was  discovered  on  the  farther  bank. 

A  council  of  war  was  held.  Never  before  had  the  white 
man  followed  the  red  so  far  into  his  domain,  and  'twas  plain 
the  Indian  was  off  his  guard;  not  a  scout  -was  posted. 

At  Wild  Bill's  suggestion  the  attack  waited  upon  nightfall. 
Veiled  by  darkness,  the  corcpany  was  to  surprise  the  Indian 
camp  and  stampede  the  horses. 

The  plan  was  carried  out  without  a  hitch.  The  Indians 
outnumbered  the  white  men  three  to  one,  but  when  the  latter 
rushed  cyclonically  through  the  camp,  no  effort  was  made  to 


8O  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

repel  them,  and  by  the  time  the  Indians  had  recovered  from 
their  surprise  the  plainsmen  had  driven  off  all  the  horses — 
those  belonging  to  the  reds  as  well  as  those  that  had  been 
stolen.  A  few  shots  were  fired,  but  the  whites  rode  scathless 
away,  and  unpursued. 

The  line  of  march  was  now  taken  up  for  Sweetwater  Bridge, 
and  here,  four  days  later,  the  plainsmen  brought  up  with  their 
own  horses  and  about  a  hundred  Indian  ponies. 

This  successful  sally  repressed  the  hostilities  for  a  space. 
The  recovered  horses  were  put  back  on  the  road,  and  the 
stage-drivers  and  express- riders  resumed  their  interrupted 
activity. 

"Billy,"  said  Mr.  Slade,  who  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to 
Will ;  "Billy,  this  is  a  hard  life,  and  you're  too  young  to  stand 
it.  You've  done  good  service,  and  in  consideration  of  it  I'll 
make  you  a  supernumerary.  You'll  have  to  ride  only  when 
it's  absolutely  necessary." 

There  followed  for  Will  a  period  of  dolce  far  niente;  days 
when  he  might  lie  on  his  back  and  watch  the  clouds  drift 
across  the  sky;  when  he  might  have  an  eye  to  the  beauty  of 
the  woodland  and  the  sweep  of  the  plain,  without  the  nervous 
strain  of  studying  every  tree  and  knoll  that  might  conceal  a 
lurking  redskin.  Winter  closed  in,  and  with  it  came  the  mem- 
ories of  the  trapping  season  of  '6o-'6i,  when  he  had  laid  low 
his  first  and  last  bear.  But  there  were  other  bears  to  be  killed, 
the  mountains  were  full  of  them,  and  one  bracing  morning  he 
turned  his  horse's  head  toward  the  hills  that  lay  adown  the , 
Horseshoe  Valley.  Antelope  and  deer  fed  in  the  valley,  the 
sage  hen  and  the  jack-rabbit  started  up  under  his  horse's 
hoofs,  but  such  small  game  went  by  unnoticed. 

Two  o'clock  passed  without  a  sign  of  bear  save  some  tracks 
in  the  snow.  The  wintry  air  had  put  a  keen  edge  on  Will's 
appetite,  and,  hitching  his  tired  horse,  he  shot  one  of  the  lately 
scorned  sage  hens  and  broiled  it  over  a  fire,  that  invited  a  longer 
stay  than  an  industrious  bear-hunter  could  afford.  But  night- 
fall found  him  and  his  quarry  still  many  miles  asunder,  and,  as 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  8 1 

he  did  not  relish  the  prospect  of  a  chaffing  from  the  men  at  the 
station,  he  cast  about  for  a  camping  place,  finding  one  in  an 
open  spot  on  the  bank  of  a  little  stream.  Two  more  sage  hens 
were  added  to  the  larder,  and  he  was  preparing  to  kindle  a 
fire  when  the  whinnying  of  a  horse  caught  his  ear.  He  ran  to 
his  own  horse  to  check  the  certain  response,  resaddled  him, 
and  disposed  everything  for  flight,  should  it  be  necessary. 
Then,  taking  his  rifle,  he  put  forth  on  a  reconnaissance. 

He  shortly  came  upon  a  bunch  of  horses,  a  dozen  or  more, 
around  a  crook  of  the  stream.  Above  them,  on  the  farther 
bank,  shone  a  light.  Drawing  nearer,  he  saw  that  it  came 
from  a  dugout,  and  he  heard  his  own  language  spoken.  Re- 
assured, he  walked  boldly  up  to  the  door  and  rapped. 

Silence — followed  by  a  hurried  whispering,  and  the  demand: 

"Who's  there?" 

"Friend  and  white  man,"  answered  Will. 

The  door  opened  reluctantly,  and  an  ugly-looking  customer 
bade  him  enter.  The  invitation  was  not  responded  to  with 
alacrity,  for  eight  such  villainous-looking  faces  as  the  dugout 
held  it  would  have  been  hard  to  match.  Too  late  to  retreat, 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  a  determined  front,  and  let  wit 
point  the  way  of  escape.  Two  of  the  men  Will  recognized  as 
discharged  teamsters  from  I,ew  Simpson's  train,  and  from  his 
knowledge  of  their  long-standing  weakness  he  assumed  cor- 
rectly that  he  had  thrust  his  head  into  a  den  of  horse  thieves. 

"Who's  with  you?"  was  the  first  query,  and  this  answered, 
with  sundry  other  information  esteemed  essential,  "Where's 
your  horse?"  demanded  the  most  striking  portrait  in  the 
rogues'  gallery. 

"Down  by  the  creek,"  said  Will. 

"All  right,  sonny;  we'll  go  down  and  get  him,"  was  the 
obliging  rejoinder. 

"Oh,  don't  trouble  yourself,"  said  Will.  "I'll  fetch  him 
and  put  up  here  over  night,  with  your  permission.  I'll  leave 
my  gun  here  till  I  get  back. ' ' 

"That's  right,  leave  your  gun,  you  won't  need  it,"  said  the 


82  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

leader  of  the  gang,  with  a  grin  that  was  as  near  amiability  as 
his  rough,  stern  calling  permitted  him.  "Jim  and  I  will  go 
down  with  you  after  the  horse. ' ' 

This  oifer  compelled  an  acquiescence,  Will  consoling  himself 
with  the  reflection  that  it  is  easier  to  escape  from  two  men 
than  from  eight. 

When  the  horse  was  reached,  one  of  the  outlaws  obligingly 
volunteered  to  lead  it. 

"All  right,"  said  Will,  carelessly.  "  I  shot  a  couple  of  sage 
hens  here;  I'll  take  them  along.  Lead  away  !" 

He  followed  with  the  birds,  the  second  horse  thief  bringing 
up  the  rear.  As  the  dugout  was  neared  he  let  fall  one  of  the 
hens,  and  asked  the  chap  following  to  pick  it  up,  and  as  the 
obliging  rear  guard  stopped,  Will  knocked  him  senseless  with 
the  butt  of  his  revolver.  The  man  ahead  heard  the  blow  and 
turned,  with  his  hand  on  his  gun,  but  Will  dropped  him  with 
a  shot,  leaped  on  his  horse,  and  dashed  off. 

The  sextet  in  the  dugout  sprang  to  arms  and  came  running 
down  the  bank,  and  likely  getting  the  particulars  of  the  escape 
from  the  ruffian  by  the  sage  hen,  who  was  probably  only 
stunned  for  the  moment,  they  buckled  warmly  to  the  chase. 
The  mountain  side  was  steep  and  rough,  and  men  on  foot  were 
better  than  on  horseback;  accordingly  Will  dismounted,  and 
clapping  his  pony  soundly  on  the  flank,  sent  him  clattering  on 
down  the  declivity,  and  himself  stepped  aside  behind  a  large 
pine.  The  pursuing  party  rushed  past  him,  and  when  they 
were  safely  gone,  he  climbed  back  over  the  mountain  and 
made  his  way  as  best  he  could  to  the  Horseshoe.  It  was  a 
twenty-five  mile  plod,  and  he  reached  the  station  early  in  the 
morning,  weary  and  footsore. 

He  woke  the  plainsmen,  and  related  his  adventure,  and  Mr. 
Slade  at  once  organized  a  party  to  hunt  out  the  bandits  of  the 
dugout.  Twenty  well-armed  stock-tenders,  stage-drivers  and 
ranchmen  rode  away  at  sunrise,  and  notwithstanding  his  fatigue 
Will  accompanied  them  as  guide. 

But  the  ill-favored  birds  had  flown;  the  dugout  was  deserted. 


LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  83 

Will  soon  tired  of  this  nondescript  service,  and  gladly  ac- 
cepted a  position  as  assistant  wagon-master  under  Wild  Bill, 
who  had  taken  a  contract  to  fetch  a  load  of  government  freight 
from  Rolla,  Missouri. 

He  returned  with  a  wagon  train  to  Springfield,  in  that  state, 
and  thence  came  home  on  a  visit.  It  was  a  brief  one,  however, 
for  the  air  was  too  full  of  war  for  him  to  endure  inaction. 
Contented  only  when  at  work,  he  continued  to  help  on  govern- 
ment freight  contracts,  until  he  received  word  that  mother  was 
dangerously  ill.  Then  he  resigned  his  position,  and  hastened 
home. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  MOTHER'S  LAST  ILLNESS — HER  CHARGE  TO  THE  WRITER 

— LAST  MESSAGE   FOR  WILL  AND  JULIA — HER  DEATH. 

T  was  now  the  autumn  of  1863, 
and  Will  was  a  well -grown 
young  man,  tall,  strong  and 
athletic,  though  not  yet  quite 
eighteen  years  old.  Our  old- 
est sister,  Julia,  had  been 
married,  the  spring  preceding, 
to  Mr.  J.  A.  Goodman,  but 
.  they  remained  in  the  old  home 
because  of  mother's  failing 
health. 

Seeing  her  from  day  to  day, 
we  had  not  remarked  the 
changes  in  her  gradual  dis- 
solution, but  Will  was  much  shocked  by  the  transformation 
that  a  few  months  had  wrought.  So  frail  and  delicate  had  she 
been  for  years  it  seemed  impossible  her  hold  on  life  could 
weaker  grow.  Only  an  indomitable  will-power  had  enabled 
her  to  overcome  the  infirmities  of  the  body,  and  now  it  seemed 
to  us  as  if  her  flesh  had  been  refined  away,  leaving  only  the 
sweet  and  beautiful  spirit. 

Will  had  reached  home  none  too  soon,  for  shortly  after  the 
doctor  advised  mother  that  only  a  few  hours  were  left  to  her, 
and  if  she  had  any  last  messages,  it  were  best  that  she  com- 
municate them  at  once.  And  so  that  evening,  when  the  time 
came  round,  it  was  a  sad  good  night  that  was  exchanged,  the 
younger  children  being  called  in  one  by  one  to  receive  the 
parting  blessing  and  injunction. 
84 


LAST   OF  THE    GREAT  SCOUTS.  85 

Mother's  was  an  earnest  Christian  character,  but  at  that 
time,  of  all  the  children  I  alone  appeared  religiously  disposed, 
therefore  her  anxiety  was  keen.  Young  as  I  was,  the  solem- 
nity of  the  hour  when  she  charged  me  with  the  spiritual  welfare 
of  the  family  has  remained  with  me  through  all  the  years  that 
have  gone.  Calling  me  to  her  side,  she  sought  to  impress 
upon  my  childish  mind  not  the  sorrow  of  death,  but  the  glory 
of  the  Resurrection. 

"  Death  has  no  sting,"  she  said,  "  that  is  not  swallowed  up 
in  victory — the  glorious  victory  purchased  with  a  Saviour's 
blood.  Do  not  weep  for  me,  my  child;  rejoice,  rather,  that  I 
have  gone  where  I  shall  no  longer  suffer.  There  I  shall  wait 
for  my  children;  do  not  let  me,  Nellie,  wait  in  vain.  See  to 
it  that  there  shall  be  not  one  missing  from  the  final  gathering 
above.  My  greatest  anxiety  is  for  Willie.  With  a  mother's 
keen  insight  I  see  a  lurking  enemy  that  would  destroy  my 
son.  The  one  earthly  foe  I  fear  for  him  is  the  evil  that  is 
licensed  by  the  law  of  our  land,  and  countenanced  and  upheld 
by  those  with  whom  he  will  come  in  contact.  In  the  wine  cup 
and  its  debasing  influences  he  may  find  a  power  stronger  than 
his  own  will. 

' '  Let  your  sisterly  influence  be  used  in  every  possible  way 
to  save  him  from  this  blighting  curse.  You  can  do  little  of 
yourself  to  guard  against  the  alluring  temptations  which  will 
beset  him  in  every  walk  of  life.  But  be  faithful  in  your  in- 
tercessions for  him  before  the  Throne  of  Grace.  To  Him,  who 
is  able  to  do  exceeding  abundantly  above  all  that  we  can  ask 
or  think,  we  must  look  for  strength  to  overcome  this  mighty 
force  of  the  destroyer,  that  will  assail  our  loved  one.  The  veil 
was  lifted  when  your  sister  Martha  died — lifted  long  enough 
that  she  might  pierce  the  mysteries  of  the  Great  Beyond.  She 
left  for  us  the  assurance  that  Willie  would  be  among  the  saved: 
thus  I  die  in  the  glad  belief  that  in  God's  own  good  time,  the 
name  of  my  well-beloved  son  will  be  written  down  by  the  Re- 
cording Angel  in  the  Lamb's  Book  of  Life.  Never  cease  your 
efforts  in  behalf  of  your  brothers  and  sisters.  Remember  al- 


86  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

ways  that  their  spiritual  well-being  was  your  mother's  last 
charge  to  you.  I  have  loved  them,  I  have  prayed  for  them  ;  to 
you  is  bequeathed  the  work  I  have  left  unfinished.  Be  faith- 
ful to  the  trust." 

As  if  she  were  setting  forth  upon  a  pleasant  journey,  she 
bade  me  good-bye,  and  I  kissed  her  for  the  last  time  on  earth. 
When  next  I  saw  her  face  it  was  cold  and  quiet,  the  beautiful 
soul  had  forsaken  its  dwelling-place  of  clay,  and  had  followed 
Martha's  through  the  Invisible,  to  wait,  a  glorified  spirit  on 
the  farther  shore,  for  the  coming  of  the  loved  ones  whose  life. 
story  was  as  yet  unfinished. 

After  mother's  farewell  charge  to  May  we  were  all  sent  to 
bed,  only  Julia  and  Will  remaining  with  the  dying  saint 
throughout  the  night.  As  is  commonly  the  case  with  consump- 
tives, there  came  to  her  just  before  her  death  a  brief  season  of 
long-lost  animation,  the  last  flicker  of  the  torch  before  dark- 
ness. To  these  older  children  she  talked  almost  continuously 
until  the  dawn.  Into  their  hands  was  given  the  task  of  edu- 
cating the  others  of  the  family,  and  on  their  hearts  and  con- 
sciences the  charge  was  graven.  Charlie,  who  was  born  dur- 
ing the  early  Kansas  troubles,  had  ever  been  a  delicate  child, 
and  he  lay  an  especial  burden  on  her  mind. 

"  If,"  she  said,  "  it  be  possible  for  the  dead  to  call  the  liv- 
ing, I  shall  call  Charlie  to  me." 

Within  the  space  of  a  year,  Charlie,  too,  was  gone,  and  who 
shall  say  that  the  yearning  of  a  mother's  heart  for  her  child 
was  not  stronger  than  the  influences  of  the  material  world  ? 

Upon  Will  mother  sought  to  impress  the  responsibilities  of 
his  destiny.  She  reminded  him  of  the  predictions  of  the  for- 
tune-teller, that  "  his  name  would  be  known  the  world  over." 

"  But,"  said  she,  "  only  the  names  of  them  that  are  upright, 
brave,  temperate,  and  true,  can  be  honorably  known.  Re- 
member always  that  '  he  that  overcometh  his  own  soul  is 
greater  than  he  who  taketh  a  city.'  Already  you  have  shown 
great  abilities,  but  remember  that  they  carry  with  them  grave 
responsibilities.  You  have  been  a  good  son  to  me  always.  In 


LAST   OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  87 

the  hour  of  need  you  aided  me  to  save  the  estate  of  the  family  ; 
therefore,  I  can  leave  you  freed  of  anxiety  over  financial 
troubles,  for  with  prudence  there  is  enough  property  to  render 
each  child  comfortable.  Julia,  I  know,  will  exercise  a  mother's 
care  over  the  little  ones,  and  I  have  appointed  her  husband 
guardian  of  the  estate. 

* '  I  have  not  wished  you  to  enlist  in  the  war,  partly  because 
I  knew  you  were  too  young,  partly  because  my  life  was  draw- 
ing near  its  close.  But  now  you  are  nearly  eighteen,  and  if, 
when  I  am  gone,  your  country  needs  you  in  the  strife  of  which 
we  in  Kansas  know  the  bitterness,  I  bid  you  go  as  soldier  in 
behalf  of  the  cause  for  which  your  father  gave  his  life." 

She  talked  until  sleep  followed  exhaustion.  When  she 
awoke  she  tried  to  raise  herself  in  bed.  Will  sprang  to  aid 
her,  and  with  the  upward  look  of  one  that  sees  ineffable  things, 
she  passed  away,  resting  in  his  arms. 

Oh,  the  glory  and  the  gladness 

Of  a  life  without  a  fear  ; 
Of  a  death,  like  nature  fading 

In  the  autumn  of  the  year  ; 
Of  a  sweet  and  dreamless  slumber, 

In  a  faith  triumphant  borne, 
Till  the  bells  of  Easter  wake  her, 

On  the  resurrection  morn  ! 

t 
Ah,  for  such  a  blessed  falling 

Into  quiet  sleep  at  last, 
When  the  ripening  grain  is  garnered, 

And  the  toil  and  trial  past ; 
When  the  red  and  gold  of  sunset 

Slowly  changes  into  gray; 
Ah,  for  such  a  quiet  passing, 

Through  the  night  into  the  day ! 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


A  FRONTIER  FUNERAL — OFF  TO  THE  WAR — WILL  AS  DISPATCH 
BEARER — AN  AMBUSCADE  THAT  FAILED — DEATH  OF  ED 
NORCROSS — AN  ECONOMICAL  ADMINISTRATOR  AND  A  LES- 
SON IN  ECONOMY — WILL  REPORTS  FOR  "SECRET  SERVICE" 
— A  PERILOUS  MISSION. 


HE  morning  of  the  22d  of 
ember,  1863,  began  the  saddest 
day  of  our  lives.  When  father 
died  most  of  the  children  were 
too  young  to  realize  how  great 
was  their  loss  ;  and  then,  we 
had  mother  left  to  comfort  us. 
Now,  bereft  of  both  father  and 
mother,  the  future  looked 
blank  and  desolate. 

In  frontier  days,  the  splen- 
did trappings  by  which  grief 
in  these  times  seeks  to  ease  its 
burden,  were  lacking.  We 

.had  no  other  vehicle  large  enough  to  convey  us  all  to  the  ceme- 
tery, so  we  rode  in  the  lumber  wagon.  It  was  a  long,  cold, 
hard  ride  to  Pilot  Knob  from  our  house,  but  we  wished  our 
parents  to  be  united  in  death  as  they  had  been  in  life.  Only 
those  who  have  heard  the  clods  fall  upon  their  nearest  and 
dearest  can  appreciate  our  desolation  of  heart  that  raw  Novem- 
ber day. 

We  know  our  parents  were  buried  on  the  summit  of  Pilot 
Knob  hill.     Further  than  that  we  know  nothing.     Whether 
because  of  the  spite   of  enemies,  the  carelessness  of  those 
88 


LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  89 

in  authority,  or  of  war's  inevitable  havoc,  their  graves  to- 
day are  unknown,  unhonored  and  unmarked.  Every  effort 
was  made  to  locate  them  exactly  ;  high  officials  in  Kansas  de- 
sired to  honor  the  first  victim  in  the  struggle  for  human  liberty 
in  that  state,  but  all  search  has  proven  unavailing. 

The  road  leading  from  the  cemetery  forked  a  short  distance 
outside  of  I^eavenworth,  one  branch  running  to  that  city,  the 
other  winding  homeward  along  Government  Hill.  When  we 
reached  the  fork  Will  jumped  out  of  the  wagon. 

"I  can't  go  home  when  I  know  mother  is  no  longer  there," 
said  he.  "lam  going  to  L,eavenworth  to  see  Eugene  Hatha- 
way. I  shall  stay  with  him  to-night." 

We  pitied  Will — he  and  mother  had  been  so  much  to  each 
other — and  raised  no  objection,  as  we  should  have  done  had  we 
known  the  real  purpose  of  his  visit. 

The  next  morning,  therefore,  we  were  much  surprised  to 
see  him  and  Eugene  ride  into  the  yard,  both  clothed  in  the 
blue  uniforms  of  United  States  soldiers.  Overwhelmed  with 
grief  over  mother's  death,  it  seemed  more  than  we  could  bear 
to  see  our  big  brother  ride  off  to  war.  In  our  imaginations, 
it  was  a  foregone  conclusion  that  the  next  act  in  the  drama 
would  be  the  bringing  home  of  his  lifeless,  bullet-riddled  body, 
and  great  was  our  lamentation.  Among  other  things  we  threat- 
ened to  inform  the  recruiting  officers  that  he  was  not  yet  eigh- 
teen ;  but  he  was  too  thoroughly  in  earnest  to  be  moved  by 
our  objections.  The  regiment  in  which  he  had  enlisted  was 
already  ordered  to  the  front,  and  he  had  come  home  to  say 
good-bye  ;  then  he  rode  away  to  the  hardships,  dangers  and 
privations  of  a  soldier's  life.  The  joy  of  action  balanced  the 
account  for  him,  while  we  were  obliged  to  accept  the  usual  lot 
of  girlhood  and  womanhood;  the  weary,  anxious  waiting,  when 
the  heart  is  torn  with  uncertainty  and  suspense  over  the  fate 
of  the  loved  ones  who  bear  the  brunt  and  burden  of  the  day. 

The  order  sending  Will's  regiment  to  the  front  was  counter- 
manded, and  he  remained  for  a  time  in  Fort  Leavenworth. 
His  western  experiences  were  well  known  there,  and  probably 


90  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

for  this  reason,  he  was  selected  as  a  bearer  of  military  dis- 
patches to  Fort  learned.  Some  of  our  old  Pro-Slavery  enemies, 
who  were  upon  the  point  of  joining  the  Confederate  army, 
learned  of  Will's  mission,  which  they  thought  afforded  them 
an  excellent  chance  to  gratify  their  ancient  grudge  against  the 
father,  by  murdering  the  son.  The  killing  could  be  justified 
on  the  plea  of  service  rendered  to  their  cause.  Accordingly  a 
plan  was  made  to  waylay  Will  and  capture  his  dispatches  at  a 
creek  he  was  obliged  to  ford. 

He  received  warning  of  this  plot.  On  such  a  mission  the 
utmost  vigilance  was  demanded  at  all  times,  and  with  an  am- 
buscade ahead  of  him,  he  was  alertness  itself.  His  knowledge 
of  Indian  warfare  stood  him  in  good  stead  now.  Not  a  tree, 
rock,  or  hillock  escaped  his  keen  glance.  When  he  nearedthe 
creek  at  which  the  attack  was  expected,  he  left  the  road  and 
attempted  to  ford  the  stream  four  or  five  hundred  yards  above 
the  common  crossing,  but  found  it  so  swollen  by  recent  rains 
that  he  was  unable  to  cross,  so  he  cautiously  picked  his  way 
back  to  the  trail. 

The  assassins'  camp  was  two  or  three  hundred  feet  away 
from  the  creek.  Darkness  was  coming  on,  and  he  took  advan- 
tage of  the  shelter  afforded  by  the  bank,  screening  himself  be- 
hind every  clump  of  bushes.  His  enemies  would  look  for  his 
approach  from  the  other  direction,  and  he  hoped  to  give  them 
the  slip  and  pass  by  unseen. 

When  he  reached  the  point  where  he  could  see  the  little 
cabin  where  the  men  were  probably  hiding,  he  ran  upon  a 
thicket  in  which  five  saddle  horses  were  concealed. 

4 'Five  to  one  !  I  don't  stand  much  show  if  they  see  me," 
he  decided  as  he  rode  quietly  and  slowly  along,  his  carbine  in 
his  hand  ready  for  use. 

"  There  he  goes,  boys  !  he's  at  the  ford  !  "  came  a  sudden 
shout  from  the  camp,  followed  by  the  crack  of  a  rifle.  Two  or 
three  more  shots  rang  out,  and  from  the  bound  his  horse  gave 
Will  knew  one  bullet  had  reached  a  mark.  He  rode  into  the 
water,  then  turned  in  his  saddle  and  aimed  like  a  flash  at  a  man 


I, AST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  91 

within  range.  The  fellow  staggered  and  fell,  and  Will  put 
spurs  to  his  horse,  turning  again  only  when  the  stream  was 
crossed.  The  men  were  running  toward  the  ford,  firing  as 
they  came,  and  getting  a  warm  return  fire.  As  Will  was  al- 
ready two  or  three  hundred  yards  in  advance,  pursuers  on  foot 
were  not  to  be  feared,  and  he  knew  that  before  they  could 
reach  and  mount  their  horses  he  would  be  beyond  danger. 
Much  depended  on  his  horse.  Would  the  gallant  beast,  mor- 
tally hurt,  as  it  afterwards  proved,  be  able  to  long  maintain 
the  fierce  pace  he  had  set  ?  Mile  upon  mile  was  put  behind  be- 
fore the  stricken  creature  fell.  Will  shouldered  the  saddle  and 
bridle  and  continued  on  foot.  He  soon  reached  a  ranch  where 
a  fresh  mount  might  be  procured,  and  was  shortly  at  Fort 
Learned. 

After  a  few  hours'  breathing  spell,  he  left  for  Fort  Leaven- 
worth  with  return  dispatches.  As  he  drew  near  the  ford  he 
resumed  his  sharp  lookout,  though  scarcely  expecting  trouble. 
The  planners  of  the  ambuscade  had  been  so  certain  that  five 
men  could  easily  make  away  with  one  boy  that  there  had  been 
no  effort  at  disguise,  and  Will  had  recognized  several  of  them. 
He,  for  his  part,  felt  certain  that  they  would  get  out  of  that 
part  of  the  country  with  all  dispatch  ;  but  he  employed  none 
the  less  caution  in  crossing  the  creek, and  his  carbine  was  ready 
for  business  as  he  approached  the  camp. 

The  fall  of  his  horse's  hoofs  evoked  a  faint  call  from  one  of 
the  buildings.  It  was  not  repeated,  instead  there  issued  hollow 
moans. 

It  might  be  a  trap  ;  again,  a  fellow  creature  might  be  at 
death's  door.  Will  rode  a  bit  nearer  the  cabin  entrance. 

"Who's  there?  "  he  called. 

"  Come  in,  for  the  love  of  God  !  I  am  dying  here  alone  !  " 
was  the  reply. 

"Who  are  you?" 

"  Ed.  Norcross." 

Will  jumped  from  his  horse.  This  was  the  man  he  had  fired 
at.  He  entered  the  cabin. 


92  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

' '  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  was  wounded  by  a  bullet,"  moaned  Norcross,  "  and  my 
Comrades  deserted  me." 

Will  was  now  within  range  of  the  poor  fellow  lying  on  the 
iloor. 

11  Will  Cody  !"  he  cried. 

Will  dropped  on  his  knee  beside  the  dying  man,  choking 
with  the  emotion  that  the  memory  of  long  years  of  friendship 
had  raised. 

"My  poor  Ed!"  he  murmured.  "And  it  was  my  bullet 
that  struck  you. ' ' 

"It  was  in  defense  of  your  own  life,  Will,"  said  Norcross. 
"God  knows  I  don't  blame  you.  Don't  think  too  hard  of  me. 
I  did  everything  I  could  to  save  you.  It  was  I  who  sent  you 
warning.  I  hoped  you  might  find  some  other  trail." 

"I  didn't  shoot  with  the  others,"  continued  Norcross  after 
a  short  silence.  ' '  They  deserted  me.  They  said  they  would 
send  help  back,  but  they  haven't." 

Will  filled  the  empty  canteen  lying  on  the  floor  and  re- 
arranged the  blanket  that  served  as  a  pillow;  then  he  offered  to 
dress  the  neglected  wound.  But  the  grey  of  death  was  already 
upon  the  face  of  Norcross. 

"Never  mind,  Will,"  he  whispered,  "it's  not  worth  while. 
Just  stay  with  me  till  I  die." 

It  was  not  a  long  vigil.  Will  sat  beside  his  old  friend, 
moistening  his  pallid  lips  with  water.  In  a  very  short  time  the 
end  came.  Will  disposed  the  stiffening  limbs,  crossing  the 
hands  over  the  heart,  and  with  a  last  backward  look,  went 
out  of  the  cabin. 

It  was  his  first  experience  in  the  bitterness  and  savagery  of 
war,  and  he  set  a  grave  and  downcast  face  against  the  re- 
mainder of  his  journey. 

As  he  neared  L,eavenworth  he  met  the  friend  that  had  con- 
veyed the  dead  man's  warning  message,  and  to  him  he  com- 
mitted the  task  of  bringing  home  the  body.  His  heaviness  of 
spirit  was  scarcely  mitigated  by  the  congratulations  of  the 


LAST   OF   THE   GREAT  SCOUTS.  93 

commander  of   Fort   L,eaven worth   upon  his  pluck   and   re- 
sources, which  had  saved  both  his  life  and  the  dispatches. 

There  followed  another  period  of  inaction,  always  irritating 
to  a  lad  of  Will's  restless  temperament.  Meantime,  we  at 
home  were  having  our  own  experiences. 

We  were  rejoiced  in  great  measure  when  sister  Julia  decided 
that  we  had  learned  as  much  as  might  be  hoped  for  in  the 
country  school,  and  must  thereafter  attend  the  winter  and 
spring  terms  of  the  school  at  Leaven  worth.  The  dresses  she 
cut  for  us,  however,  still  followed  the  country  fashion,  which 
has  regard  rather  to  wear  than  to  appearance,  and  we  had  not 
been  a  day  in  the  city  school  before  we  discovered  that  our 
apparel  had  stamped  "  provincial' '  upon  us  in  plain,  large 
characters.  In  addition  to  this,  our  brother-in-law,  in  his 
endeavor  to  administer  the  estate  economically,  bought  each  of 
us  a  pair  of  coarse  calf-skin  shoes.  To  this  we  were  quite 
unused,  mother  having  accustomed  us  to  serviceable  but  pretty 
ones.  The  author  of  our  "extreme"  mortification,  totally 
ignorant  of  the  shy  and  sensitive  nature  of  girls  approaching 
womanhood,  only  laughed  at  our  protests,  and  in  justice  to 
him  it  may  be  said  that  he  really  had  no  conception  of  the 
torture  he  inflicted  upon  us. 

We  turned  to  Will.  In  every  emergency  he  was  our  first 
thought,  and  here  was  an  emergency  that  taxed  his  powers  to 
an  extent  we  did  not  dream  of.  He  made  answer  to  our  letter 
that  he  was  no  longer  an  opulent  trainman,  but  drew  only  the 
slender  income  of  a  soldier,  and  even  that  pittance  was  in 
arrears.  Disappointment  was  swallowed  up  in  remorse.  Had 
we  reflected  how  keenly  he  must  feel  his  inability  to  help  us, 
we  would  not  have  sent  him  the  letter,  which  at  worst  con- 
tained only  a  sly  suggestion  of  a  fine  opportunity  to  relieve 
sisterly  distress.  All  his  life  he  had  responded  to  our  every 
demand;  now  allegiance  was  due  his  country  first.  But,  as 
was  always  the  way  with  him,  he  made  the  best  of  a  bad  mat- 
ter, and  we  were  much  comforted  by  the  receipt  of  the  follow- 
ing letter: 


94  LAST  OF  THR  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

' '  MY  DEAR  SISTERS  : 

1 '  I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  help  you  and  furnish  you  with 
such  clothes  as  you  wish.  At  this  writing  I  am  so  short 
of  funds  myself  that  if  an  entire  Mississippi  steamer  could  be 
bought  for  ten  cents  I  couldn't  purchase  the  smokestack.  I 
will  soon  draw  my  pay,  and  I  will  send  it,  every  cent,  to  you. 
So  brave  it  out,  girls,  a  little  longer.  In  the  meantime  I  will 
write  to  Al. 

lovingly,  Wiu<." 

We  were  comforted,  yes;  but  my  last  hope  was  gone,  and  } 
grew  desperate.  I  had  never  worn  the  obnoxious  shoes  pur- 
chased by  my  guardian,  and  I  proceeded  to  dispose  of  them 
forever.  I  struck  what  I  regarded  as  a  famous  bargain  with 
an  accommodating  Hebrew,  and  came  into  possession  of  a  pair 
of  shiny  morocco  shoes,  worth  perhaps  a  third  of  what  mine 
had  cost.  One  would  say  they  were  designed  for  shoes,  and 
they  certainly  looked  like  shoes,  but  as  certainly  they  were 
not  wearable.  Still  they  were  of  service,  for  the  transaction 
convinced  my  guardian  that  the  truest  economy  did  not  lie  in 
the  purchasing  of  calf-skin  shoes  for  at  least  one  of  his  charges. 
And  a  little  later  he  received  a  letter  from  Will,  presenting  our 
grievances  and  advocating  our  cause.  Will  also  sent  us  the 
whole  of  his  next  month's  pay  as  soon  as  he  drew  it. 

In  February,  1864,  Sherman  began  his  march  through  Mis- 
sissippi. The  Seventh  Kansas  regiment,  known  as  "  Jenni- 
son's  Jayhawkers,"  was  reorganized  at  Fort  I^eavenworth  as 
veterans,  and  sent  to  Memphis,  Tenn.,  to  join  General  A.  J. 
Smith's  command,  which  was  to  operate  against  General  Forrest 
and  cover  the  retreat  of  General  Sturgis,  who  had  been  so 
badly  whipped  by  Forrest  at  Cross-Roads.  Will  was  exceed- 
ingly desirous  of  engaging  in  a  great  battle,  and  through 
some  officers  with  whom  he  was  acquainted  preferred  a  peti- 
tion to  be  transferred  to  this  regiment.  The  request  was 
granted,  and  his  delight  knew  no  bounds.  He  wrote  to  us 
that  his  great  desire  was  about  to  be  gratified,  that  he  should 
soon  know  what  a  real  battle  was  like. 

He  was  well  versed  in  Indian  warfare,  now  he  was  ambi- 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  95 

tious  to  learn,  from  experience,  the  superiority  of  civilized 
strife, — rather,  I  should  say,  of  strife  between  civilized 
people. 

General  Smith  had  acquainted  himself  with  the  record  made 
by  the  young  scout  of  the  plains,  and  shortly  after  reaching 
Memphis  he  ordered  Will  to  report  to  headquarters  for  special 
service. 

"  I  am  anxious,"  said  the  general,  "to  gain  reliable  infor- 
mation concerning  the  enemy's  movements  and  position.  This 
can  only  be  done  by  entering  the  Confederate  camp,  a  line  of 
action,  as  you  are  aware,  fraught  with  great  danger.  You 
possess  the  needed  qualities — nerve,  coolness,  resource — and  I 
believe  you  could  do  it." 

"  You  mean,"  answered  Will,  quietly,  "that  you  wish  me 
to  go  as  a  spy  into  the  rebel  camp. ' ' 

"  Exactly.  But  you  must  understand  the  risk  you  run.  If 
you  are  captured  you  will  be  hanged." 

"  I  am  ready  to  take  the  chances,  sir,"  said  Will ;  "  ready 
to  go  at  once,  if  you  wish." 

General  Smith's  stern  face  softened  into  a  smile  at  the 
prompt  response. 

"I  am  sure,  Cody,"  said  he,  kindly,  "  that  if  any  one  can 
go  through  safely,  you  will.  Dodging  Indians  on  the  plains 
was  good  training  for  the  work  in  hand,  which  demands  quick 
intelligence  and  ceaseless  vigilance.  I  never  require  such 
service  of  any  one,  but  since  you  volunteer  to  go,  take  these 
maps  of  the  country  to  your  quarters,  and  study  them  care- 
fully. Return  this  evening  for  full  instructions." 

During  the  few  days  his  regiment  had  been  in  camp,  Will 
had  been  on  one  or  two  scouting  expeditions,  and  was  some- 
what familiar  with  the  immediate  environments  of  the  Union 
forces.  The  maps  were  unusually  accurate,  showing  every  lake, 
river,  creek  and  highway,  and  even  the  by-paths  from  planta- 
tion to  plantation. 

Only  the  day  before,  while  on  a  reconnaissance,  Will  had 
captured  a  Confederate  soidier,  who  proved  to  be  an  old  ?.'. 


96  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT   SCOUTS. 

quaintance,  named  Nat  Golden.  Will  had  served  with  Nat  on 
one  of  Russell,  Majors  &  Waddell's  freight  trains,  and  at  one 
time  had  saved  the  young  man's  life,  and  thereby  earned  his 
enduring  friendship.  Nat  was  born  in  the  Bast,  became  in- 
fected with  Western  fever,  and  ran  away  from  home  in  order 
to  become  a  plainsman. 

"Well,  this  is  too  bad,"  said  Will,  when  he  recognized  his 
old  friend.  ' '  I  would  rather  have  captured  a  whole  regiment 
than  you.  I  don't  like  to  take  you  in  as  a  prisoner.  What  did 
you  enlist  on  the  wrong  side  for,  anyway?" 

"The  fortunes  of  war,  Billy,  my  boy,"  laughed  Nat. 
"Friend  shall  be  turned  against  friend,  and  brother  against 
brother,  you  know.  You  wouldn't  have  had  me  for  a  pris- 
oner, either,  if  my  rifle  hadn't  snapped,  but  I'm  glad  it  did, 
for  I  shouldn't  want  to  be  the  one  that  shot  you." 

"Well,  I  don't  want  to  see  you  strung  up,"  said  Will,  "so 
hand  me  over  those  papers  you  have,  and  I  will  turn  you  in  as 
an  ordinary  prisoner. ' ' 

Nat's  face  paled  as  he  asked  :  "Do  you  think  I'm  a  spy, 
Billy?" 

"I  know  it." 

"Well,"  was  the  reply,  "I've  risked  my  life  to  obtain 
these  papers,  but  I  suppose  they  will  be  taken  from  me  any- 
way, so  I  might  as  well  give  them  up  now  and  save  my  neck." 

Examination  showed  them  to  be  accurate  maps  of  the  loca- 
tion and  position  of  the  Union  army,  and  besides  the  maps, 
there  were  papers  containing  much  valuable  information  con- 
cerning the  number  of  soldiers  and  officers  and  their  intended 
movements.  Will  had  not  destroyed  these  papers,  and  he  now 
saw  a  way  to  use  them  to  his  own  advantage.  When  he  re- 
ported for  final  instructions,  therefore,  at  General  Smith's 
tent,  in  the  evening,  Will  said  to  him  : 

1 '  I  gathered  from  a  statement  dropped  by  the  prisoner  cap- 
tured yesterday,  that  a  Confederate  spy  has  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing out  and  carrying  to  the  enemy  a  complete  map  of  the 
position  of  our  regiment,  together  with  some  idea  of  the  pro- 
jected plan  of  campaign." 


I.AST   OF  THE   GREAT    SQOUTS.  97 

"  Ah,"  said  the  general,  "  I  am  glad  that  you  have  put  me 
on  my  guard.  I  will  at  once  change  my  position  so  that  the 
information  will  be  of  no  value  to  them." 

Then  followed  full  instructions  as  to  the  duty  required  of 
the  volunteer. 

"  When  will  you  set  out?"  asked  the  general. 

"To-night,  sir.  I  have  procured  my  uniform,  and  have 
everything  prepared  for  an  early  start." 

"  Going  to  change  your  colors,  eh?" 

"Yes,  for  the  time  being,  but  not  my  principles." 

The  general  looked  at  Will  approvingly.  "You  will  need  all 
the  wit,  pluck,  nerve,  and  caution  of  which  you  are  possessed 
to  come  through  this  ordeal  safely, ' '  said  he.  ' '  I  believe  you 
can  accomplish  it,  and  I  rely  upon  you  fully.  Good-bye,  and 
success  go  with  you  ! ' ' 

After  a  warm  hand-clasp  Will  returned  to  his  tent,  and  lay 
down  for  a  few  hours'  rest.  By  four  o'clock  he  was  in  the 
saddle,  riding  toward  the  Confederate  lines. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  ROtE  OF  A  SPY — IN  THE  LION'S  DEN — A  RIDE  FOR  LIFE— 
INDIAN  TROUBLE  ON  THE  OLD  SANTE  FE  TRAIL — WILL'S 
FIRST  BIG  BATTLE — WILD  BILL  AGAIN — BREAD  CAST  UPON 
THE  WATERS — COLONEL  HICKOK'S  DARING  DASH. 

N  common  walks  of  life  to 
play  the  spy  is  an  ignoble  role  ; 
in  war  it  is  one  the  noblest  of 
men  must  sometimes  play, 
however  ungrateful  the  com- 
mission may  be. 

On  the  battlefield,  even  the 
timid  spirit  is  nerved  to  forti- 
tude— sometimes  to  reckless 
daring — by  the  elbow  touch  of 
comrades  and  the  fierce  exhil- 
aration of  the  combat  when 
once  the  action  is  begun.  For 
the  hour  he  forgets  that  he  is 
a  man,  with  mother,  wife,  or  sweetheart  waiting  for  him  at 
home.  He  is  an  animal — a  noble  animal — fighting  with  the 
ferocity  of  the  tiger  that  has  scented  blood.  What  if  he  falls  ? 
There  is  a  comrade  by  to  listen  to  the  last  message,  to  wet  his 
parched  lips  with  water,  to  tell  him  that  the  enemy  flees,  to 
inspire  him — in  a  rough  way,  if  he  cannot  voice  the  sentiment 
in  more  exalted  phrases — with  the  sublime  thought  that 

' '  The  fittest  place  where  man  can  die 
Is  where  he  dies  for  man. " 

All  that  is  asked  of  the  soldier  on  the  firing  line  is  to  present 
his  face  to  the  foe,  stand  firm,  and  obey  orders.    If  he  lives  he 
98 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  99 

marches  home  under  flying  banners,  to  the  stirring  music  of 
the  "  ear-piercing  fife  ";  if  he  falls  it  is  a  soldier's  death,  and 
he  has  a  soldier's  burial. 

How  different  the  lot  of  the  spy  !  He  goes  alone  to  meet 
danger  half  way,  his  cheek  burning  from  the  thought  that  for 
the  nonce  he  wears  a  uniform  that  he  abhors,  and  that  he  must 
gain  the  good-will  of  his  fellow-man  only  to  betray  him.  He 
must  have  nerve,  address,  a  nimble  wit,  and  unlimited  confi- 
dence in  himself.  A  false  word,  a  changing  expression  of  the 
eye,  the  slightest  intimation  that  he  is  aught  except  what  he 
pretends  to  be,  the  least  weakening  of  the  tension  at  which  his 
nerves  are  set,  and  a  few  yards  of  rope  and  a  shallow  trench 
await  him.  No  elbow  touch  of  comrades,  no  one  to  take  the 
last  message,  no  sublimer  thought  in  the  last  moment  than 
that  he  has  done  his  duty.  If  his  foe  be  compassionate,  he 
may  secure  the  privilege  of  being  shot  rather  than  hanged.  In 
any  case  it  is  a  short  shrift  before  eternity. 

Yet  the  work  has  to  be  done,  and  there  must  be  men  to  do 
it.  There  always  are  such  men — nervy  fellows  who  swing 
themselves  into  the  saddle  when  their  commander  lifts  his 
hand,  and  riae  a  mad  race  with  Death  at  the  horse's  flank 
every  mile  of  the  way.  These  be  the  unknown  heroes  of  every 
war. 

It  was  with  a  full  realization  of  the  dangers  confronting  him 
that  my  hero  cantered  away  from  the  Union  lines,  his  bor- 
rowed uniform  under  his  arm.  As  soon  as  he  had  put  the  out- 
posts behind  him,  he  dismounted  and  exchanged  the  blue 
clothes  for  the  grey.  L,ife  on  the  plains  had  bronzed  his  face. 
For  aught  his  complexion  could  tell,  the  ardent  southern  sun 
might  have  kissed  it  to  its  present  hue.  Then,  if  ever,  his 
face  was  his  fortune  in  good  part ;  but  there  was,  too,  a  stout 
heart  under  his  jacket,  and  the  light  of  confidence  in  his  clear 
brown  eyes. 

The  dawn  had  come  up  when  he  sighted  the  Confederate 
outposts.  What  lay  beyond  only  time  could  reveal,  but  with 
a  last  reassuring  touch  of  the  papers  in  his  pocket,  he  spurred 


100  I^AST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

his  horse  up  to  the  first  of  the  outlying  sentinels.  Promptly 
the  customary  challenge  greeted  him  : 

"Halt!     Who  goes  there  ?" 

"Friend." 

"Dismount,  friend  !     Advance  and  give  the  countersign  !" 

"Haven't  the  countersign,"  said  Will,  dropping  from  his 
horse,  "but  I  have  important  information  for  General  Forrest. 
Take  me  to  him  at  once. ' ' 

' '  Are  you  a  Confederate  soldier  ? ' ' 

' '  Not  exactly.  But  I  have  some  valuable  news  about  the 
Yanks,  I  reckon.  Better  let  me  see  the  general." 

"Thus  far,"  he  added  to  himself,  "I  have  played  the  part. 
The  combination  of  '  Yank '  and  '  I  reckon '  ought  to  establish 
me  as  a  promising  candidate  for  Confederate  honors." 

His  story  was  not  only  plausible,  but  plainly  and  fairly  told, 
but  caution  is  a  child  of  war,  and  the  sentinel  knew  his  busi- 
ness. The  pseudo  Confederate  was  disarmed  as  a  necessary 
preliminary,  and  marched  between  two  guards  to  headquarters, 
many  curious  eyes  (the  camp  being  now  astir)  following  the 
trio. 

When  Forrest  heard  the  report  he  ordered  the  prisoner 
brought  before  him.  One  glance  at  the  general's  handsome 
but  harsh  face,  and  the  young  man  steeled  his  nerves  for  the 
encounter.  There  was  no  mercy  in  those  cold,  piercing  eyes. 
This  first  duel  of  wits  was  the  one  to  be  most  dreaded.  Unless 
confidence  were  established  his  after  work  must  be  done  at  a 
disadvantage. 

The  general's  penetrating  gaze  searched  the  young  face 
before  him  for  several  seconds. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  he,  "  what  do  you  want  with  me?  " 

Yankee-like,  the  reply  was  another  question  : 

"  You  sent  a  man  named  Nat  Golden  into  the  Union  lines, 
did  you  not,  sir?  " 

"  And  if  I  did,  what  then  ?  " 

' '  He  is  an  old  friend  of  mine.  He  tried  for  the  Union  camp 
to  verify  information  that  he  had  received,  but  before  he 


LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  IOI 

started  he  left  certain  papers  with  me   in  case  he  should  be 
captured." 

'  'Ah  ! ' '  said  Forrest,  coldly.     ' '  And  he  was  captured  ? ' ' 

"  Yes,  sir,  but,  as  I  happen  to  know,  he  wasn't  hanged,  for 
these  weren't  on  him." 

As  he  spoke,  Will  took  from  his  pocket  the  papers  he  had 
obtained  from  Golden,  and  passed  them  over  with  the  remark : 
' '  Golden  asked  me  to  take  them  to  you. ' ' 

General  Forrest  was  familiar  with  the  hapless  Golden' s 
handwriting,  and  the  documents  were  manifestly  genuine. 
His  suspicion  was  not  aroused. 

1 '  These  are  important  papers, ' '  said  he,  when  he  had  run 
Kis  eye  over  them.  "  They  contain  valuable  information,  but 
we  may  not  be  able  to  use  it,  as  we  are  about  to  change  our 
location.  Do  you  know  what  these  papers  contain  ?  " 

"  Every  word,"  was  the  truthful  reply.  "  I  studied  them 
so  that  in  case  they  were  destroyed  you  would  still  have  the 
information  from  me.  " 

"  A  wise  thing  to  do,"  said  Forrest,  approvingly.  "Are 
you  a  soldier  ?  ' ' 

""I  have  not  as  yet  joined  the  army,  but  I  am  pretty  well 
acquainted  with  this  section,  and  perhaps  could  serve  you  as  a 
scout. ' ' 

11  Um  !  "  said  the  general,  looking  the  now  easy-minded 
young  man  over.  "  You  wear  our  uniform." 

"It's  Golden' s,"  was  the  second  truthful  answer.  "He 
left  it  with  me  when  he  put  on  the  blue. ' ' 

"  And  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Frederick  Williams.  " 

Pretty  near  the  truth.  Only  a  final  "  s  "  and  a  rearrange- 
ment of  his  given  names. 

'  Very  well,"  said  the  general,  ending  the  audience,  "  you 
may  remain  in  camp.  If  I  need  you  I'll  send  for  you." 

He  summoned  an  orderly,  and  bade  him  make  the  volunteer 
scout  comfortable  at  the  couriers'  camp.  Will  breathed  a  sigh 
of  relief  as  he  followed  at  the  orderly's  heels.  The  ordeal  was 
successfully  passed.  The  rest  was  action. 


tO2  tAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

Two  days  went  by.  In  them  Will  picked  up  valuable  infor- 
mation here  and  there,  drew  maps,  and  was  prepared  to  de- 
part at  the  first  favorable  opportunity.  It  was  about  time,  he 
figured,  that  General  Forrest  found  some  scouting  work  for 
him.  That  was  a  passport  beyond  the  lines,  and  he  promised 
himself  the  outposts  should  see  the  cleanest  pair  of  heels  that 
ever  left  unwelcome  society  in  the  rear.  But,  evidently,  scout- 
ing was  a  drug  in  the  general's  market,  for  the  close  of  an- 
other day  found  Will  impatiently  awaiting  orders  in  the  cour- 
iers' quarters.  This  sort  of  inactivity  was  harder  on  the 
nerves  than  more  tangible  perils,  and  he  about  made  up  his 
mind  that  when  he  left  camp  it  would  be  without  orders,  but 
with  a  hatful  of  bullets  singing  after  him.  And  he  was  quite 
sure  that  his  exit  lay  that  way  when,  strolling  past  headquar- 
ters, he  clapped  eyes  on  the  very  last  person  that  he  expected 
or  wished  to  see — Nat  Golden. 

And  Nat  was  talking  to  an  adjutant-general  ! 

There  were  just  two  things  to  do,  knock  Golden  on  the  head, 
or  cut  and  run.  Nat  would  not  betray  him  knowingly,  but  un- 
wittingly was  certain  to  do  so  the  moment  General  Forrest 
questioned  him.  There  could  be  no  choice  between  the  two 
courses  open  ;  it  was  cut  and  run,  and  as  a  preliminary  Will 
cut  for  his  tent.  First  concealing  his  papers,  he  saddled  his 
horse  and  rode  toward  the  outposts  with  a  serene  countenance. 

The  same  sergeant  that  greeted  him  when  he  entered  the 
lines  chanced  to  be  on  duty,  and  of  him  Will  asked  an  unim- 
portant question  concerning  the  outer-flung  lines.  Yet  as  he 
rode  along  he  could  not  forbear  throwing  an  apprehensive 
glance  behind. 

No  pursuit  was  making,  and  the  farthest  picket  line  was 
passed  by  a  good  fifty  yards.  Ahead  was  a  stretch  of  timber. 

Suddenly  a  dull  tattoo  of  horses'  hoofs  caught  his  ear,  and  he 
turned  to  see  a  small  cavalcade  bearing  down  upon  him  at  a 
gallop.  He  sank  the  spurs  into  his  horse's  side  and  plunged 
into  the  timber. 

It  was  out  of  the  frying  pan  into  the  fire.     He  ran  plump 


XAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  103 

into  a  half  dozen  Confederate  cavalrymen  guarding  two  Union 
prisoners. 

"Men,  a  Union  spy  is  escaping!"  shouted  Will.  "Scatter 
at  once,  and  head  him  off.  I'll  look  after  your  prisoners." 

There  was  a  ring  of  authority  m  the  command,  it  came  at 
least  from  a  petty  officer,  and,  without  thought  of  challenging 
it,  the  cavalrymen  hurried  right  and  left  in  search  of  the 
fugitive. 

"Come,"  said  Will,  in  a  hurried  but  smiling  whisper  to  the 
dejected  pair  of  Union  men,  ' '  I'm  the  spy !  There ! ' '  cutting  the 
ropes  that  bound  their  wrists.  "  Now  ride  for  your  lives! " 

Off  dashed  the  trio,  and  not  a  minute  too  soon.  Will's  halt 
had  been  brief,  but  it  had  been  of  advantage  to  his  pursuers, 
who,  with  Nat  Golden  at  their  head,  came  on  in  full  cry,  not 
a  hundred  yards  behind. 

Here  was  a  race  with  Death  at  the  horse's  flanks.  The 
timber  stopped  a  share  of  the  singing  bullets,  but  there  were 
plenty  that  got  by  the  trees,  one  of  them  finding  lodgment  in 
the  arm  of  one  of  the  fleeing  Union  soldiers.  Capture  meant 
certain  death  for  Will;  for  his  companions  it  meant  Anderson- 
ville  or  I^ibby  at  the  worst,  which  was,  perhaps,  as  bad  as 
death,  but  Will  would  not  leave  them,  though  his  horse  was 
fresh,  and  he  could  easily  have  distanced  them.  Of  course,  if 
it  became  necessary,  he  was  prepared  to  cut  their  acquaint- 
ance, but  for  the  present  he  made  one  of  the  triplicate  target 
on  which  the  galloping  marksmen  were  endeavoring  to  score  a 
bull's-eye. 

The  edge  of  the  wood  was  shortly  reached,  and  beyond — 
inspiring  sight! — lay  the  outposts  of  the  Union  army.  The 
pickets,  at  sight  of  the  fugitives,  sounded  the  alarm,  and  a 
body  of  blue-coats  responded. 

Will  would  have  gladly  tarried  for  the  skirmish  that  en- 
sued, but  he  esteemed  it  his  first  duty  to  deliver  the  papers  he 
had  risked  his  life  to  obtain;  so,  leaving  friend  and  foe  to  set- 
tle the  dispute  as  best  they  might,  he  put  for  the  clump  of 
trees  where  he  had  hidden  his  uniform,  and  exchanged  it  for 


104  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

the  grey  that  had  served  its  purpose  and  was  no  longer  endur- 
able. Under  his  true  colors  he  rode  into  camp. 

General  Forrest  almost  immediately  withdrew  from  that 
neighborhood,  and  after  the  atrocious  massacre  at  Fort  Pil- 
low, on  the  1 2th  of  April,  left  the  state.  General  Smith  was 
recalled,  and  Will  was  transferred  with  the  commission  of 
guide  and  scout  for  the  Ninth  Kansas  Regiment. 

The  Indians  were  giving  so  much  trouble  along  the 
line  of  the  old  Sante  Fe  trail  that  troops  were  needed  to 
protect  the  stage-coaches,  emigrants  and  caravans  traveling 
that  great  highway.  Like  nearly  all  our  Indian  wars,  this 
trouble  was  precipitated  by  the  injustice  of  the  white  man's 
government  of  certain  of  the  native  tribes.  In  1860,  Colonel 
A.  G.  Boone,  a  worthy  grandson  of  the  immortal  Daniel,  made 
a  treaty  with  the  Comanches,  Kiowas,  Cheyennes  and  Arapa- 
hoes,  and  at  their  request  he  was  made  agent.  During  his 
wise,  just  and  humane  administration  all  of  these  savage 
nations  were  quiet,  and  held  the  kindliest  feelings  toward  the 
whites.  Any  one  could  cross  the  plains  without  fear  of 
molestation.  In  1861  a  charge  of  disloyalty  was  made  against 
Colonel  Boone  by  Judge  Wright  of  Indiana,  and  he  succeeded 
in  having  the  right  man  removed  from  the  right  place. 
Russell,  Majors  &  Waddell,  recognizing  his  influence  over  the 
Indians,  gave  him  fourteen  hundred  acres  of  land  near  Pueblo, 
Colorado.  Colonel  Boone  moved  there,  and  the  place  was 
named  Booneville.  Fifty  chieftains  from  the  tribes  referred 
to  visited  Colonel  Boone  in  the  fall  of  1862,  and  implored  him 
to  return  to  them.  He  told  them  that  the  President  had  sent 
him  away.  They  offered  to  raise  money,  by  selling  their 
horses,  to  send  him  to  Washington  to  tell  the  Great  Father 
what  their  agent  was  doing;  that  he  stole  their  goods  and  sold 
them  back  again,  and  they  bade  the  colonel  say  that  there 
would  be  trouble  unless  some  one  were  put  in  the  dishonest 
man's  place.  With  the  innate  logic  for  which  the  Indian  is 
noted,  they  declared  that  they  had  as  much  right  to  steal  from 
passing  caravans  as  the  agent  had  to  steal  from  them. 

No  notice  was  taken  of  so  trifling  a  matter  as  an  injustice  to 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  105 

the  Indian.  The  administration  had  its  hands  more  than  full 
in  the  attempt  to  right  the  wrongs  of  the  negro. 

In  the  fall  of  1863  a  caravan  passed  along  the  trail.  It  was 
a  small  one,  but  the  Indians  had  been  quiet  for  so  long  a  time 
that  travelers  were  beginning  to  lose  fear  of  them.  A  band 
of  warriors  rode  up  to  the  wagon  train  and  asked  for  some- 
thing to  eat.  The  teamsters  thought  they  would  be  doing 
humanity  a  service  if  they  killed  a  redskin,  on  the  ancient 
principle  that  ' '  the  only  good  Indian  is  a  dead  one. ' '  Accord- 
ingly, a  friendly,  inoffensive  Indian  was  shot. 

The  bullet  that  reached  his  heart  touched  that  of  every 
warrior  in  these  nations.  Every  man  but  one  in  the  wagon 
train  was  slain,  the  animals  driven  off  and  the  wagons  burned. 

The  fires  of  discontent  that  had  been  smouldering  for  two 
years  in  the  red  man's  breast  now  burst  forth  with  volcanic 
fury.  Hundreds  of  atrocious  murders  followed,  with  whole- 
sale destruction  of  property. 

The  Ninth  Kansas  Regiment,  under  the  command  of  Colonel 
Clark,  was  detailed  to  protect  the  old  trail  between  Fort  Lyon 
and  Fort  learned,  and  as  guide  and  scout  Will  felt  wholly  at 
home.  He  knew  the  Indian  and  his  ways,  and  had  no  fear  of 
him.  His  fine  horse  and  glittering  trappings  were  an  innocent 
delight  to  him,  and  who  will  not  pardon  in  him  the  touch  of 
pride — say  vanity — that  thrilled  him  as  he  led  his  regiment 
down  the  Arkansas  River  ? 

During  the  summer  there  were  sundry  skirmishes  with  the 
Indians.  The  same  old  vigilance  learned  in  earlier  days  on  the 
frontier  was  in  constant  demand,  and  there  was  many  a  rough 
and  rapid  ride  to  drive  the  hostiles  from  the  trail.  Whatever 
Colonel  Clark's  men  may  have  had  to  complain  of,  there  was 
no  lack  of  excitement,  no  dull  days  in  that  summer. 

In  the  autumn  the  Seventh  Kansas  was  again  ordered  to  the 
front,  and  at  the  request  of  its  officers  Will  was  detailed  for 
duty  with  his  old  regiment.  General  Smith's  orders  were  that 
he  should  go  to  Nashville.  Rosecrans  was  then  in  command  of 
the  Union  forces  in  Missouri.  His  army  was  very  small,  num- 


106  LAST  OF  THE   GREAT   SCOUTS. 

bering  only  about  6,500  men,  while  the  Confederate  General 
Price  was  on  the  point  of  entering  the  state  with  20,000.  This 
superiority  of  numbers  was  so  great  that  General  Smith  re- 
ceived an  order  countermanding  the  other  and  remained  in 
Missouri,  joining  forces  with  Rosecrans  to  oppose  Price.  Rose- 
crans's  entire  force  still  only  numbered  u,coo,  and  he  deemed 
it  prudent  to  concentrate  his  army  around  St.  Louis.  General 
Kwing's  forces  and  a  portion  of  General  Smith's  command  oc- 
cupied Pilot  Knob.  On  Monday,  the  24th  of  September,  1864, 
Price  advanced  against  this  position,  but  was  repulsed  with 
heavy  losses.  An  adjacent  fort  in  the  neighborhood  of  Ironton 
was  assaulted,  but  the  Confederate  forces  again  sustained  a 
severe  loss.  This  fort,  however,  was  commanded  by  Shepard 
Mountain,  which  the  Confederates  occupied,  and  their  well- 
directed  fire  obliged  General  Ewing  to  fall  back  to  Harrison 
Station,  where  he  made  a  stand,  and  some  sharp  fighting  fol- 
lowed. General  Ewing  again  fell  back  and  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing General  McNeill  at  Rolla,  with  the  main  body  of  his 
troops. 

This  was  Will's  first  serious  battle,  and  it  so  chanced  that  he 
found  himself  opposed  at  one  point  by  a  body  of  Missouri 
troops,  numbering  many  of  the  men  that  had  been  his  father's 
enemies  and  persecutors  nine  years  before.  In  the  heat  of  the 
conflict  he  recognized  more  than  one  of  them,  and  with  the 
recognition  came  the  memory  of  his  boyhood's  vow  to  avenge 
his  father's  death.  Three  of  those  men  fell  in  that  battle  ; 
and  whether  or  not  it  was  he — his  aim  was  careful — that  laid 
them  low,  from  that  day  on  he  accounted  himself  freed  of  his 
melancholy  obligation. 

After  several  hard-fought  battles  Price  withdrew  from  Mis- 
souri with  the  remnant  of  his  command — seven  thousand  where 
there  had  been  twenty. 

During  this  campaign  Will  received  honorable  mention  ' '  for 
most  conspicuous  bravery  and  valuable  service  upon  the  field," 
and  he  was  shortly  brought  into  favorable  notice  in  many  quar- 
ters. The  worth  of  the  tried  veterans  was  known,  but  none 


LAST  OK  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  107 

df  the  older  men  were  in  more  demand  than  Will.  His  was 
seemingly  a  charmed  life.  Often  was  he  detailed  to  bear  dis- 
patches across  the  battlefield,  and  though  horses  were  shot 
under  him — riddled  by  bullets  or  torn  by  shells — himself  went 
scathless. 

During  this  campaign,  too,  he  ran  across  his  old  friend  of 
the  plains,  Wild  Bill.  Stopping  at  a  farm  house  one  day  to 
obtain  a  meal,  he  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  hear  the  salu- 
tation : 

"  Well,  Billy,  my  boy,  how  are  you  ?  " 

He  looked  around  to  see  a  hand  outstretched  from  a  coat- 
sleeve  of  Confederate  grey,  and  as  he  knew  Wild  Bill  to  be  a 
staunch  Unionist,  he  surmised  that  he  was  engaged  upon  an 
enterprise  similar  to  his  own.  There  was  an  exchange  of 
chaffing  about  grey  uniforms  and  blue,  but  more  serious  talk 
followed. 

"  Take  these  papers,  Billy,"  said  Wild  Bill,  passing  over  a 
package.  "Take  'em  to  General  McNeill,  and  tell  him  I'm 
picking  up  too  much  good  news  to  keep  away  from  the  Con- 
federate camp. ' ' 

"  Don't  take  too  many  chances, "  cautioned  Will,  well  know- 
ing that  the  only  chances  the  other  would  not  take  would  be 
the  sort  that  were  not  visible. 

Colonel  Hickok,  to  give  him  his  real  name,  replied  with  a 
laugh: 

"  Practise  what  you  preach,  my  son.  Your  neck  is  of  more 
value  than  mine.  You  have  a  future,  but  mine  is  mostly  past. 
I'm  getting  old. " 

At  this  point  the  good  woman  of  the  house  punctuated  the 
colloquy  with  a  savory  meal,  which  the  pair  discussed  with 
good  appetite  and  easy  conscience,  in  spite  of  their  host's  re- 
fusal to  take  pay  from  Confederate  soldiers. 

"  As  long  as  I  have  a  crust  in  the  house,"  said  she,  "  you 
boys  are  welcome  to  it." 

But  the  pretended  Confederates  paid  her  for  her  kindness  in 
better  currency  than  she  was  used  to.  They  withheld  infor- 


108  LAST  OK  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

mation  concerning  a  proposed  visit  of  her  husband  and  son,  of 
which,  during  one  spell  of  loquacity,  she  acquainted  them. 
The  bread  she  cast  upon  the  waters  returned  to  her  speedily. 

The  two  friends  parted  company,  Will  returning  to  the 
Union  lines  and  Colonel  Hickok  to  the  lion's  den  in  the  op- 
posing camp. 

A  few  days  later,  when  the  Confederate  forces  were  closing 
up  around  the  Union  lines  and  a  battle  was  at  hand,  two 
horsemen  were  seen  to  dart  out  of  the  hostile  camp  and  ride 
at  full  speed  for  the  Northern  lines.  For  a  space  the  audacity 
of  the  escape  seemed  to  paralyze  the  Confederates ;  but 
presently  the  bullets  followed  thick  and  fast,  and  one  of  the 
saddles  was  empty  before  the  rescue  party — of  which  Will  was 
one — got  fairly  under  way.  As  the  survivor  drew  near,  Will 
shouted : 

11  It's  Wild  Bill,  the  Union  scout." 

A  cheer  greeted  the  intrepid  Colonel  Hickok,  and  he  rode 
into  camp  surrounded  by  a  party  of  admirers.  The  infor- 
mation he  brought  proved  of  great  value  in  the  battle  of  Pilot 
Knob  (already  referred  to),  which  almost  immediately 
followed. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A  ST.  LOUIS  DETAIL — THE  FAIR  EQUESTRIENNE — A  RESCUE 
AND  A  BETROTHAL— THE  OVERLAND  STAGE  ROUTE — 
WILL  AS  A  DRIVER — ANOTHER  RACE  FOR  LIFE — TURN 

ABOUT  AT  "HOLDING  UP"  is  FAIR  PLAY. 

OT  long  after  the  battle  of  Pilot 
Knob  Will  was  assigned  to  spe- 
cial service  at  military  head- 
quarters in  St.  Ixniis.  From 
girlhood  to  the  time  of  her 
death  mother  had  maintained  a 
correspondence  with  one  of  her 
schoolmates,  who  became  the 
wife  of  General  Polk,  and  when 
the  general's  wife  learned  that 
a  son  of  her  old  friend  was  in 
the  Union  army,  she  used  her 
influence  to  obtain  an  excellent  position  for  him.  Will  was 
not  wholly  pleased.  His  new  duties  lacked  excitement  and 
the  spice  of  danger  that  long  had  flavored  his  existence.  Yet 
his  St.  L,ouis  detail  proved  an  important  turning  point  in  his 
life,  for  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  lady  who  afterward 
became  his  wife. 

More  than  once,  while  out  for  a  morning  canter,  he  had  re- 
marked a  young  woman  of  attractive  face  and  figure,  who  sat 
her  horse  with  the  grace  of  Diana  Vernon.  Now  few  things 
caugh  his  eye  more  quickly  than  fine  horsemanship,  whether 
in  man  or  woman,  and  his  desire  to  establish  an  acquaintance 
with  this  particular  equestrienne  was  the  stronger  for  the  diffi- 
culties that  beset  the  path  to  such  a  favor,  as  none  of  his  friends 

109 


IIO  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

knew  her  and  the  most  formal  introduction  seemed  hopelessly 
remote.  The  only  chance  appeared  to  lie  in  a  rescue.  Such 
things  happen  frequently  in  novels,  indeed,  it  is  a  common  way 
of  bringing  the  hero  and  heroine  together,  but  this  young  lady 
never  seemed  in  need  of  rescue,  or  even  of  a  warning  against  a 
possible  mishap.  Her  horse  always  behaved  properly,  and  her 
firm  handling  of  him  was  extremely  discouraging  to  a  young 
man  tagging  close  behind,  waiting  for  a  runaway  which,  if  it 
were  coming,  was  certainly  taking  its  time  about  it. 

Yet  it  did  come.  Fortune  was  kind.  Fate  one  morning 
broke  a  bridle,  and  even  a  lady  centaur  would  be  at  a  disadvan- 
tage under  such  circumstances. 

All  the  elements  for  a  first-class  rescue  were  present :  horse 
rushing  madly  down  the  street,  lady  clinging  helplessly  to  his 
back,  precipice  presumably  a  mile  or  two  down  the  road,  no 
one  but  the  hero  around.  The  race  was  on. 

From  long  association  with  it  on  the  plains,  Will  had  become 
inseparable  from  his  lariat,  and  it  was  the  work  of  but  half  a 
minute  to  coil  it,  send  it  whizzing  through  the  air  and  drop  it 
neatly  around  the  neck  of  the  runaway  horse,  then,  riding 
alongside,  he  gradually  tightened  the  noose  until  the  half- 
choked  animal  £ave  up  the  struggle. 

The  other  ingredients  for  the  romance  were  promptly  sup- 
plied :  lady  unnerved  by  the  strain,  young  man,  hat  in  hand, 
proffering  escort,  purely  to  oblige  the  lady,  though  he  him- 
self should  be  about  some  pressing  business,  smiles,  thanks, 
and — an  introduction  to  the  family. 

From  war  to  love — or  from  love  to  war — is  but  a  step,  and 
Will  lost  no  time  in  taking  it.  He  was  somewhat  better  than 
an  apprentice  to  Dan  Cupid.  If  the  reader  remembers,  he 
went  to  school  with  Steve  Gobel.  True,  his  opportunities  to 
enjoy  feminine  society  had  not  been  many,  which,  perhaps, 
accounts  for  the  promptness  with  which  they  (the  opportuni- 
ties) were  embraced  when  they  did  arise. 

This  was  thirty-three  years  ago,  and  newspaper  reporting 
was  not  the  exact  science  that  it  is  to-day,  but  the  runaway 


LAST  OF  THK  GREAT    SCOUTS.  Ill 

found  its  way  into  the  next  day's  paper.  The  reporter  was 
not  slow  in  learning  that  the  young  man  with  the  lariat  had 
had  many  other  adventures,  but  he  got  little  satisfaction  from 
Will,  who,  not  addicted  to  the  amiable  weakness  of  "  blowing 
his  own  horn,"  rather  fancied  he  had  headed  off  the  news- 
paper man.  But  he  reckoned  without  Wild  Bill.  Colonel 
Hickok  was  very  willing  to  be  interviewed,  and  he  drew  on 
his  memory  for  enough  material  to  stuff  the  reporter's  note- 
book. So  Will,  not  a  little  surprised,  read  all  about  himself 
in  the  morning  journal,  and  subsequently  found  himself  some- 
thing of  a  lion  in  the  gay  life  of  St.  Louis  city. 

This  prestige,  needless  to  say,  did  not  injure  his  chances  of 
winning  Miss  Louise  Frederici,  the  heroine  of  the  runaway, 
and  he  became  her  accepted  suitor  before  the  war  closed  and 
he  received  his  honorable  discharge. 

The  spring  of  '65  found  him  not  yet  twenty,  and  he  was 
sensible  of  the  fact  that  before  he  could  dance  at  his  own  wed- 
ding he  must  place  his  worldly  affairs  upon  a  surer  financial 
basis  than  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  soldier,  so,  much  as  he  would 
have  enjoyed  remaining  in  St.  Louis,  fortune  pointed  to  wider 
fields,  and  he  set  forth  in  search  of  remunerative  and  con- 
genial employment. 

First,  there  was  the  visit  home,  where  the  warmest  of  wel- 
comes waited  him.  During  his  absence  the  second  sister, 
Eliza,  had  married  a  Mr.  Myers,  but  the  rest  of  us  were  at  the 
old  place,  and  the  eagerness  with  which  we  awaited  Will's 
home-coming  was  stimulated  by  the  hope  that  he  would  remain 
and  take  charge  of  the  estate.  Before  we  broached  this  sub- 
ject, however,  we  had  to  inform  him  that  we  had  read  the 
glowing  story  of  his  career  in  the  St.  Louis  paper,  and,  as  May 
remarked,  considered  it  a  trifle  overdrawn.  For  his  part, 
there  was  the  story  of  the  engagement  to  Miss  Frederici  to 
tell,  and,  far  from  awaking  jealousy,  it  aroused  our  delight, 
Julia  voicing  the  sentiment  of  the  family  in  the  comment  : 

"When  you're  married,  Will,  you  will  have  to  stay  at 
home." 


112  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT   SCOUTS. 

This  led  to  the  matter  of  his  remaining  with  us  to  manage 
the  estate — and  to  the  upsetting  of  our  plans.  The  pay  of  a 
soldier  in  the  war  was  next  to  nothing,  and  as  Will  had  been 
unable  to  put  any  money  by,  he  took  the  first  chance  that 
offered  to  better  his  fortunes. 

This  happened  to  be  a  job  of  driving  horses  from  Leaven - 
worth  to  Fort  Kearney,  and  almost  the  first  man  he  met  after 
reaching  the  fort  was  an  old  plains  friend,  Bill  Trotter. 

"  You're  just  the  chap  I've  been  looking  for,"  said  Trotter, 
when  he  learned  that  Will  desired  regular  work.  "  I'm  divi- 
sion station  agent  here,  but  stage-driving  is  dangerous  work, 
as  the  route  is  infested  with  Indians  and  outlaws.  Several 
drivers  have  been  held  up  and  killed  lately,  so  it's  not  a  very 
enticing  job,  but  the  pay's  good,  and  you  know  the  country. 
If  any  one  can  take  the  stage  through,  you  can.  Question  is, 
do  you  want  the  job?  " 

When  a  man  is  in  love  and  the  wedding  'day  has  been 
dreamed  of,  if  not  set,  life  takes  on  an  added  sweetness,  and 
to  stake  it  against  the  marksmanship  of  Indian  or  outlaw  is 
not,  perhaps,  the  best  use  to  which  it  may  be  put.  Will  had 
come  safely  through  so  many  perils  that  it  seemed  folly  to 
thrust  his  head  into  another  batch  of  them,  and  thinking  of 
Louise  and  the  coming  wedding  day,  his  first  thought  was  No. 

But  it  was  the  old  story,  and  there  was  Trotter  at  his  elbow, 

expressing  confidence  in  his  ability   as  a   frontiersman — an 

opinion  Will  fully  shared,  for  a  man  knows  what  he  can  do. 

I  The  pay  was  good,  and  the  sooner  earned  the  sooner  would 

the  wedding  be,  and  Trotter  received  the  answer  he  expected. 

The  stage  line  was  another  of  the  Western  enterprises  pro- 
jected by  Russell,  Majors  &  Waddell.  When  gold  was  dis- 
covered on  Pike's  Peak  there  was  no  method  of  traversing  the 
great  Western  plain  except  by  plodding  ox  team,  mule  pack 
or  stage-coach.  A  semi-monthly  stage  line  ran  from  St.  Jos- 
eph to  Salt  Lake  City,  but  it  was  poorly  equipped  and  very 
tedious,  oftentimes  twenty-one  days  being  required  to  make 
the  trip.  The  senior  member  of  the  firm,  in  partnership  with 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  113 

John  S.  Jones  of  Missouri,  established  a  new  line  between  the 
Missouri  River  and  Denver,  at  that  time  a  straggling  mining 
hamlet.  One  thousand  Kentucky  mules  were  bought,  with  a 
sufficient  number  of  coaches  to  ensure  a  daily  run  each  wa}T. 
The  trip  was  made  in  six  days,  which  necessitated  travel  at 
the  rate  of  a  hundred  miles  a  day. 

The  first  stage  reached  Denver  on  May  17,  1859.  It  was 
accounted  a  remarkable  achievement,  and  the  line  was  pro- 
nounced a  great  success.  In  one  way  it  was,  but  the  expense 
of  equipping  it  had  been  enormous,  and  the  new  line  could 
not  meet  its  obligations.  To  save  the  credit  of  their  senior 
partner,  Russell,  Majors  &  Waddell  were  obliged  to  come  to 
the  rescue.  They  bought  up  all  the  outstanding  obligations 
and  also  the  rival  stage  line  between  St.  Joseph  and  Salt  Lake 
City.  They  consolidated  the  two,  and  thereby  hoped  to  put 
the  Overland  stage  route  on  a  paying  basis.  St.  Joseph  now 
became  the  starting  point  of  the  united  lines.  From  there  the 
road  went  to  Fort  Kearney,  and  followed  the  old  Salt  Lake 
Trail,  already  described  in  these  pages.  After  leaving  Salt  Lake 
it  passed  through  Camp  Floyd,  Ruby  Valley,  Carson  City, 
Placerville  and  Folsom,  and  ended  in  Sacramento. 

The  distance  from  St.  Joseph  to  Sacramento  by  this  old 
stage  route  was  nearly  nineteen  hundred  miles.  The  time 
required  by  mail  contracts  and  the  government  schedule  was 
nineteen  days.  The  trip  was  frequently  made  in  fifteen,  but 
there  were  so  many  causes  for  detention  that  the  limit  was 
more  often  reached. 

Each  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  road  was  designated  a 
"division,"  and  was  in  charge  of  an  agent,  who  had  great 
authority  in  his  own  jurisdiction.  He  was  commonly  a  man 
of  more  than  ordinary  intelligence,  and  all  matters  pertaining 
to  his  division  were  entirely  under  his  control.  He  hired  and 
discharged  employees,  purchased  horses,  mules,  harness  and 
food,  and  attended  to  their  distribution  at  the  different  sta- 
tions. He  superintended  the  erection  of  all  buildings,  had 
charge  of  the  water  supply,  and  he  was  the  paymaster. 


114  ^AST  OIf  THE  GRBAT    SCOUTS. 

There  was  also  a  man  known  as  the  conductor,  whose  route 
was  almost  coincident  with  that  of  the  agent.  He  sat  with  the 
driver,  and  often  rode  the  whole  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of 
his  division  without  any  rest  or  sleep,  except  what  he  could 
catch  sitting  on  the  top  of  the  flying  coach. 

The  coach  itself  was  a  roomy,  swaying  vehicle,  swung  on 
thorough-braces  instead  of  springs.  It  always  had  a  six-horse 
or  six-mule  team  to  draw  it,  and  the  speed  was  nerve-break- 
ing. Passengers  were  allowed  twenty-five  pounds  of  baggage, 
and  that,  with  the  mail,  express  and  the  passengers  them- 
selves, was  in  charge  of  the  conductor. 

The  Overland  stage-coaches  were  operated  at  a  loss  untif 
1862.  In  March  of  that  year  Russell,  Majors  &  Waddell 
transferred  the  whole  outfit  to  Ben  Holliday.  Here  was  a 
typical  frontiersman,  of  great  individuality  and  character.  At 
the  time  he  took  charge  of  the  route  the  United  States  mail  was 
given  to  it ;  this  put  the  line  on  a  sound  financial  basis,  as  the 
government  spent  $800,000  yearly  in  transporting  the  mail  to 
San  Francisco. 

Will  reported  for  duty  the  morning  after  his  talk  with  Trot- 
ter, and  when  he  mounted  the  stage-box  and  gathered  the 
reins  over  the  six  spirited  horses,  the  passengers  were  assured 
of  an  expert  driver. 

His  run  was  from  Fort  Kearney  to  Plum  Creek.  The  country 
was  sharply  familiar.  It  was  the  scene  of  his  first  encounter 
with  Indians.  A  long  and  lonely  ride  it  was,  and  a  dismal  one 
when  the  weather  turned  cold,  but  it  meant  a  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  a  month,  and  each  pay  day  brought  him  nearer  to  St. 
Louis. 

Indian  signs  there  had  been  right  along,  but  they  were  only 
signs,  until  one  bleak  day  in  November.  He  pulled  out  of 
Plum  Creek  with  a  sharp  warning  ringing  in  his  ears.  Indians 
were  on  the  war-path,  and  trouble  was  more  likely  than  not 
ahead.  Lieutenant  Flowers,  assistant  division  agent,  was  on 
the  box  with  him,  and  within  the  coach  were  six  well-armed 
passengers. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  115 

Half  of  the  run  had  been  covered  when  Will's  experienced 
eye  detected  the  promised  red  men.  Before  him  lay  a  stream 
which  must  be  forded.  The  creek  was  densely  fringed  with 
underbrush,  and  along  this  the  Indians  were  skulking,  ex- 
pecting to  cut  the  stage  off  at  the  only  possible  crossing. 

Perhaps  this  is  a  good  place  to  say  a  word  concerning  the 
seemingly  extraordinary  fortune  that  has  stood  by  Will  in  his 
adventures.  Not  only  have  his  own  many  escapes  been  of  the 
hairbreadth  sort,  but  he  has  arrived  on  the  scene  of  danger  at 
just  the  right  moment  to  rescue  others  from  extinction.  Of 
course  an  element  of  luck  has  entered  into  these  affairs,  but  for 
the  most  part  they  simply  proved  the  old  saying  that  an  ounce 
of  prevention  is  better  than  a  pound  of  cure.  Will  had  studied 
the  plains  as  an  astronomer  studies  the  heavens.  The  slightest 
disarrangement  of  the  natural  order  of  things  caught  his  eye. 
With  the  astronomer,  it  is  a  comet  or  an  asteroid  appearing 
upon  a  field  whose  every  object  has  long  since  been  placed  and 
studied;  with  Will,  it  was  a  feathered  head-dress  where  there 
should  have  been  but  tree,  or  rock,  or  grass  ;  a  moving  figure 
where  nature  should  have  been  inanimate. 

When  seen,  those  things  were  calculated  as  the  astronomer 
calculates  the  motion  of  the  objects  that  he  studies.  A  planet 
will  arrive  at  a  given  place  at  a. certain  time  ;  an  Indian  will 
reach  a  ford  in  a  stream  in  about  so  many  minutes.  If  there 
be  time  to  cross  before  him,  it  is  a  matter  of  hard  driving  ;  if 
the  odds  are  with  the  Indian,  that  is  another  matter. 

A  less  experienced  observer  than  Will  would  not  have  seen 
the  skulking  redskins ;  a  less  skilled  frontiersman  would  not 
have  apprehended  their  design  ;  a  less  expert  driver  would  not 
have  taken  the  running  chance  for  life  ;  a  less  accurate  marks- 
man would  not  have  picked  off  an  Indian  with  a  rifle  while 
shooting  from  the  top  of  a  swinging,  jerking  stage-coach. 

Will  did  not  hesitate.  A  warning  shout  to  the  passengers, 
and  the  whip  was  laid  on,  and  off  went  the  horses,  full  speed. 
Seeing  that  they  had  been  discovered,  the  Indians  came  out 
into  the  open,  and  ran  their  ponies  for  the  ford,  but  the  stage. 


Il6  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

was  there  full  five  hundred  yards  before  them.  It  was  char- 
acteristic of  their  driver  that  the  horses  were  suffered  to  pause 
at  the  creek  long  enough  to  get  a  swallow  of  water,  then,  re- 
freshed, they  were  off  at  full  speed  again. 

The  coach,  creaking  in  every  joint,  rocked  like  a  captive 
balloon,  the  unhappy  passengers  were  hurled  from  one  side  of 
the  vehicle  to  the  other,  flung  into  one  another's  laps  and  oc- 
casionally, when  some  uncommon  obstacle  sought  to  check  the 
flying  coach,  their  heads  collided  with  its  roof.  The  Indians 
menaced  them  without,  cracked  skulls  seemed  their  fate 
within. 

Will  plied  the  whip  relentlessly,  and  so  nobly  did  the  pow- 
erful horses  respond  that  the  Indians  gained  but  slowly  on 
them.  There  were  some  fifty  redskins  in  the  band,  but  Will 
assumed  that  if  he  could  reach  the  relay  station  the  two  stock- 
tenders  there,  with  himself,  Lieutenant  Flowers  and  the  pas- 
sengers, would  be  more  than  a  match  for  the  marauders. 

When  the  pursuers  drew  within  fair  rifle  range  Will  handed 
the  reins  to  the  lieutenant,  swung  round  in  his  seat  and  fired 
at  the  chief. 

"  There,"  shouted  one  of  the  passengers,  "  that  fellow  with 
the  feathers  is  shot!"  and  another  fusillade  from  the  coach  in- 
terior drove  holes  in  the  air. 

The  relay  station  was  now  hard  by,  and  attracted  by  the 
firing  the  stock-tenders  came  forth  to  take  a  hand  in  the  en- 
gagement. Disheartened  by  the  fall  of  their  chief,  the  Indians 
weakened  at  the  sign  of  reinforcements  and  gave  up  the  pursuit . 

Lieutenant  Flowers  and  two  of  the  passengers  were  wounded, 
but  Will  could  not  repress  a  smile  at  the  excited  assurance  of 
one  of  his  fares  that  they  (the  passengers)  had  "killed  one 
Indian  and  driven  the  rest  back."  The  stock-tenders  smiled, 
also,  but  said  nothing.  It  would  have  been  too  bad  to  spoil 
such  a  good  story. 

The  gravest  fears  for  the  safety  of  the  coach  had  been  ex- 
pressed when  it  was  known  that  the  reds  were  on  the  war-path; 
it  was  not  thought  possible  that  it  could  get  through  unharmed, 


LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  117 

and  troops  were  sent  out  to  scour  the  country.  These,  while 
too  late  to  render  service  in  the  adventure  just  related,  did  good 
work  during  the  remainder  of  the  winter.  The  Indians  were 
thoroughly  subdued,  and  Will  saw  no  more  of  them. 

There  was  no  other  adventure  of  special  note  until  February. 
Just  before  Will  started  on  his  run  Trotter  took  him  to  one 
side  and  advised  him  that  a  small  fortune  was  going  by  the 
coach  that  day,  and  extra  vigilance  was  urged,  as  the  existence 
of  the  treasure  might  have  become  known. 

"I' 11  do  the  best  I  can,"  said  Will,  and  he  had  scarcely 
driven  away  when  he  suspected  the  two  ill-favored  passengers 
he  carried.  The  sudden  calling  away  of  the  conductor,  where- 
by he  was  left  alone,  was  a  suspicious  circumstance.  He  prop- 
"crly  decided  that  it  would  be  wiser  for  him  to  hold  up  his  pas- 
sengers than  to  let  them  hold  up  him,  and  he  proceeded  to  take 
time  by  the  forelock.  He  stopped  the  coach,  jumped  down, 
and  examined  the  harness  as  if  something  was  wrong  ;  then 
he  stepped  to  the  coach  door  and  asked  his  passengers  to  hand 
him  a  rope  that  was  inside.  As  they  complied  they  looked  into 
the  barrels  of  two  cocked  revolvers. 

"Hands  up  !"  said  Will. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  demanded  one  of  the  pair, 
as  their  arms  were  raised. 

"  Thought  I'd  come  in  first — that's  all,"  was  the  answer. 

The  other  was  not  without  appreciation  of  humor. 

"You're  a  cute  one,  youngster,"  said  he,  ' '  but  you'll  find 
more'n  your  match  down  the  road,  or  I  miss  my  guess." 

11  I'll  look  after  that  when  I  get  to  it,"  said  Will.  "Will 
you  oblige  me  by  tying  your  friend's  hands?  Thank  you. 
Now  throw  out  your  guns.  That  all  ?  All  right.  Let  me 
see  your  hands. ' ' 

When  both  outlaws  had  been  securely  trussed  up  and  proven 
to  be  disarmed,  the  journey  was  resumed.  The  remark  dropped 
by  one  of  the  pair  was  evidence  that  they  were  part  of  the 
gang.  He  must  reach  the  relay  station  before  the  attack.  If 
tie  could  do  that  he  had  a  plan  for  farther  on. 


Il8  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

The  relay  station  was  not  far  away,  and  was  safely  reached. 
The  prisoners  were  turned  over  to  the  stock- tenders,  and  then 
Will  disposed  of  the  treasure  against  future  molestation.  He 
cut  open  one  of  the  cushions  of  the  coach,  taking  out  part  of 
the  filling,  and  in  the  cavity  thus  made  stored  everything  of 
value,  including  his  own  watch  and  pocketbook;  then  the  fill- 
ing was  replaced  and  the  hole  smoothed  to  a  natural  appear- 
ance. 

If  there  were  more  in  the  gang,  he  looked  for  them  at  the 
ford  where  the  Indians  had  sought  to  cut  him  off,  and  he  was 
not  disappointed.  As  he  drew  near  the  growth  of  willow  that 
bordered  the  road  half  a  dozen  men  with  menacing  rifles 
stepped  out. 

"  Halt,  or  you're  a  dead  man!  "  was  the  conventional  salu- 
tation, in  this  case  graciously  received. 

1 '  Well,  what  do  you  want  ? ' '  asked  Will. 

' '  The  boodle  you  carry.     Fork  it  over ! ' ' 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Will,  smiling,  "this  is  a  case  where  it 
takes  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief." 

-"  What's  that  ?  "  cried  one  of  the  outlaws,  his  feelings  out- 
raged by  the  frank  description. 

"Not  that  I'm  the  thief,"  continued  Will,  "but  your  pals 
were  one  too  many  for  you  this  time. ' ' 

"  Did  they  rob  you  ?  "  howled  the  gang  in  chorus,  shocked 
by  such  depravity  on  the  part  of  their  comrades. 

"  If  there's  anything  left  in  the  coach  worth  having  don't 
hesitate  to  take  it,"  offered  Will  pleasantly. 

"  Where's  your  strong-box?"  demanded  the  outlaws,  loth 
to  believe  there  was  no  honor  among  thieves. 

Will  drew  it  forth  and  exposed  its  melancholy  emptiness. 
The  profanity  that  ensued  was  positively  shocking. 

' '  Where  did  they  hold  you  up  ?  "  demanded  the  leader  of 
the  gang. 

"  Eight  or  nine  miles  back.  You'll  find  some  straw  in  the 
road.  You  can  have  that,  too." 

' '  Were  there  horses  to  meet  them  ? ' ' 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  119 

"  On  foot  the  last  I  saw  them." 

"Then  we  can  catch  'em,  boys,"  shouted  the  leader,  hope 
upspringing  in  his  breast.  "  Come,  let's  be  off  !  " 

They  started  for  the  willows  on  the  jump,  and  presently 
returned  spurring  their  horses. 

' '  Give  them  my  regards  ! ' '  shouted  Will.  But  only  the 
thud  !  thud  !  of  horsehoofs  answered  him.  Retribution  was 
sweeping  like  a  hawk  upon  its  prey. 

Will  pushed  along  to  the  end  of  his  run  and  handed  over  his 
trust  undisturbed.  Fearing  that  his  ruse  might  have  been 
discovered,  he  put  the  " extra  vigilance"  urged  by  Trotter 
into  the  return  trip,  but  the  trail  was  deserted.  He  picked  up 
the  prisoners  at  the  relay  station  and  carried  them  to  Fort 
Kearney.  If  their  companions  were  to  discover  the  sorry  trick 
played  upon  them  they  would  have  demanded  his  life  as  a 
sacrifice. 

At  the  end  of  this  exciting  trip  he  found  a  letter  from  Miss 
Frederici  waiting  him.  She  urged  him  to  give  up  the  wild  life 
he  was  leading,  return  east,  and  find  another  calling.  This 
was  precisely  what  Will  himself  had  in  mind,  and  persuasion 
was  not  needed.  In  his  reply  he  asked  that  the  wedding  day 
be  set,  and  then  he  handed  Trotter  his  resignation  from  the 
lofty  perch  of  a  stage- driver. 

11 1  don't  like  to  let  you  go,"  objected  Trotter. 

"  But,"  said  Will,  "  I  took  the  job  only  in  order  to  save 
enough  money  to  get  married  on." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Trotter,  "  I  have  nothing  to  do  but 
wish  you  joy." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  WEDDING — WILL  TURNS  LANDLORD — FIRST  EFFORT  AS  AN 
INDIVIDUAL  FREIGHTER,  AND  ITS  DISASTROUS  ENDING- 
SCOUTING  AT  FORT  FLETCHER — THE  MEETING  WITH 
GENERAL  CUSTER — THE  MOUSE- COLORED  MULE— A  VOICE 
IN  THE  NIGHT — "  THE  COLORED  TROOPS  FIGHT  NOBLY  " 
— THE  CITY  OF  ROME. 

HEN  Will  reached  home  he 
found  another  letter  from  Miss 
Frederici,  who,  agreeably  to 
his  request,  had  fixed  the  wed- 
ding day,  March  6,  1866. 
This  date  was  not  far  distant, 
although  of  course  each  hour 
between  seemed  an  eternity. 

The  wedding  ceremony  was 
quietly  performed  at  the  home 
of  the  bride,  and  the  large 
number  of  friends  that  wit- 
nessed it  united  in  declaring 
that  a  handsomer  couple  sel- 
dom bows  for  Hymen's  benediction. 

The  bridal  journey  was  a  trip  to  I^eavenworth  on  a  Missouri 
steamer.  At  that  time  there  was  much  travel  by  these  boats, 
and  their  equipment  was  first-class.  They  were  sumptuously 
fitted  out,  the  table  was  excellent,  and  except  when  sectional 
animosities  disturbed  the  serenity  of  their  decks,  a  trip  on  one 
of  them  was  a  very  pleasant  excursion. 

The  young  benedict  soon  discovered,  however,  that  in  war 
times  the  "  trail  of  the  serpent  "  is  liable  to  be  over  all  things; 

I2O  ^ 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  m 

even  a  wedding  journey  is  not  exempt  from  the  baneful  in- 
fluence of  sectional  animosity.  A  party  of  excursionists  on 
board  the  steamer  manifested  so  extreme  an  interest  in  the 
bridal  couple  that  Louise  retired  to  a  stateroom  to  escape  their 
rudeness.  After  her  withdrawal  Will  entered  into  conversa- 
tion with  a  gentleman  from  Indiana  who  had  been  very  polite 
to  him,  and  asked  him  if  he  knew  the  reason  for  the  insolence 
of  the  excursion  party.  The  gentleman  hesitated  a  moment 
and  then  answered  :  "  To  tell  the  truth,  Mr.  Cody,  these  men 
are  Missourians  and  say  they  recognize  you  as  one  of  Jennison's 
Jayhavvkers  ;  that  you  were  an  enemy  of  the  South  and  are, 
therefore,  an  enemy  of  theirs." 

Will  answered  steadily  :  ' '  I  was  a  soldier  during  the  war 
and  a  scout  in  the  Union  army,  but  I  had  some  experience  of 
Southern  chivalry  before  that  time,"  and  he  related  to  the 
Indianian  some  of  the  incidents  of  the  early  Kansas  border  war- 
fare, in  which  he  and  his  father  had  played  so  prominent  a 
part. 

The  next  day  the  insolent  behavior  was  continued.  Will 
was  much  inclined  to  resent  it,  but  his  wife  pleaded  so  earnestly 
with  him  to  take  no  notice  of  it  that  he  ignored  it. 

In  the  afternoon  when  the  boat  landed  at  a  lonely  spot  to 
wood  up,  the  Missourians  seemed  greatly  excited,  and  all 
gathered  on  the  guards  and  anxiously  scanned  the  river  bank. 

The  roustabouts  were  just  about  to  make  the  boat  fast  when 
a  party  of  armed  horsemen  dashed  out  of  the  woods  and  gal- 
loped toward  the  landing.  The  captain  thought  the  boat  was 
to  be  attacked  and  hastily  gave  orders  to  back  out,  calling  the 
crew  on  board  at  the  same  time.  These  orders  the  negroes  lost 
no  time  in  obeying,  as  they  often  suffered  severely  at  the  hands  of 
these  reckless  marauders.  The  leader  of  the  horsemen  rode 
rapidly  up,  firing  at  random.  As  he  neared  the  steamer  he  called 
out :  "  Where  is  that  Kansas  Jayhawker?  We  have  come  for 
him."  The  other  men  caught  sight  of  Will  and  one  of  them 
cried:  "We  know  you,  Bill  Cody."  But  they  were  too  late.  Al- 
ready the  steamer  was  backing  away  from  the  shore,  dragging 


122  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

her  gang-plank  through  the  water  ;  the  negro  roustabouts  were 
too  much  terrified  to  pull  it  in.  When  the  attacking  party 
saw  their  plans  were  frustrated  and  that  they  were  balked  of 
their  prey,  they  gave  vent  to  their  disappointment  in  yells  of  rage. 
A  random  volley  was  fired  at  the  retreating  steamer,  but  it  soon 
got  out  of  range  and  continued  on  its  way  up  the  river. 

Will  had  prepared  himself  for  the  worst ;  he  stood,  revolver 
in  hand,  at  the  head  of  the  steps,  ready  to  dispute  the  way  with 
his  foes. 

There  was  also  a  party  of  old  soldiers  on  board,  six  or  eight 
in  number  ;  they  were  dressed  in  civilian's  garb  and  Will  knew 
nothing  of  them,  but  when  they  heard  of  their  comrade's  pre- 
dicament they  hastily  prepared  to  back  up  the  young  scout. 
Happily  the  danger  was  averted,  and  their  services  were  not 
called  into  requisition.  The  remainder  of  the  trip  was  made 
without  unpleasant  incident. 

It  was  afterwards  learned  that  as  soon  as  the  Missourians 
became  aware  of  the  presence  of  the  Union  scout  on  board,  they 
telegraphed  ahead  to  the  James  and  Younger  brothers  that  Will 
was  aboard  the  boat,  and  asked  to  have  a  party  meet  it  at  this  se- 
cluded landing,  and  capture  and  carry  off  the  young  soldier.  Will 
feared  that  L,ouise  might  be  somewhat  disheartened  by  such 
an  occurrence  on  the  bridal  trip,  but  the  welcome  accorded  the 
young  couple  on  their  arrival  at  lyeavenworth  was  flattering 
enough  to  make  amends  for  all  unpleasant  incidents.  The 
young  wife  found  that  her  husband  numbered  his  friends  by 
the  score  in  his  own  home,  and  in  the  grand  reception  tendered 
them  he  was  the  lion  of  the  hour. 

Kntreated  by  L,ouise  to  abandon  the  plains  and  pursue  a 
vocation  along  more  peaceful  paths,  Will  conceived  the  idea 
of  taking  up  the  business  in  which  mother  had  won  financial 
success — that  of  landlord.  The  house  she  had  built  was  pur- 
chased after  her  death  by  Dr.  Crook,  a  surgeon  in  the  Seventh 
Kansas  Regiment.  It  was  now  for  rent,  which  fact  no  doubt 
decided  Will  in  his  choice  of  an  occupation.  It  was  good  to 
live  again  under  the  roof  that  had  sheltered  his  mother  in  her 


OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  123 

last  days ;  it  was  good  to  see  the  young  wife  amid  the  old 
scenes.  So  Will  turned  boniface  and  invited  May  and  me  to 
make  our  home  with  him. 

There  was  a  baby  in  Julia's  home,  and  the  dimpled  darling 
had  so  wound  himself  around  May's  heartstrings  that  she 
could  not  be  enticed  away,  but  there  was  never  anybody  that 
could  supplant  Will  in  my  heart,  and  I  gladly  accepted  his 
invitation. 

Thoreau  has  somewhere  drawn  a  sympathetic  portrait  of  the 
Landlord,  who  is  supposed  to  radiate  hospitality  as  the  sun 
throws  off  heat — as  its  own  reward,  and  who  feeds  and  lodges 
men  purely  from  a  love  of  the  creatures.  Yet  even  such  a 
landlord,  if  he  is  to  continue  long  in  business,  must  have  an 
eye  to  profit,  and  make  up  in  one  corner  what  he  parts  with  in 
another.  Now,  Will  radiated  hospitality,  and  his  reputation 
as  a  lover  of  his  fellow-man  got  so  widely  abroad  that  travelers 
without  money  and  without  price  would  go  miles  out  of  their 
way  to  put  up  at  his  tavern.  Socially  he  was  an  irreproachable 
landlord,  financially  his  shortcomings  were  deplorable. 

And  then  the  life  of  an  inn-keeper,  while  not  without  its 
joys  and  opportunities  to  love  one's  fellow-man,  is  somewhat 
prosaic,  and  our  guests  oftentimes  remarked  an  absent,  far- 
away expression  in  the  eyes  of  landlord  Cody.  He  was  think- 
ing of  the  plains.  Louise  also  remarked  that  expression,  and 
the  sympathy  she  felt  for  his  yearnings  was  accentuated  by  an 
examination  of  the  books  of  the  hostelry  at  the  close  of  the 
first  six  months'  business.  Half  smiling,  half  tearful,  she 
consented  to  his  return  to  his  Western  life. 

Will  disposed  of  the  house  and  settled  his  affairs,  and  when 
all  the  bills  were  paid  and  Sister  I<ou  and  I  cosily  ensconced  in 
a  little  home  at  Leavenworth,  we  found  that  Will's  generous 
thought  for  our  comfort  through  the  winter  had  left  him  on 
the  beach  financially.  He  had  planned  a  freighting  trip  on  his 
o\vu  account,  but  the  acquiring  of  a  team,  wagon  and  the  rest 
of  the  outfit  presented  a  knotty  problem  when  he  counted  over 
the  few  dollars  left  on  hand. 


124  LAST   °*  ™E  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

For  the  first  time  I  saw  disappointment  and  discouragement 
written  on  his  face,  and  I  was  sorely  distressed,  for  he  had 
never  denied  me  a  desire  that  he  could  gratify,  and  it  was 
partly  on  my  account  that  he  was  not  in  better  financial  condi- 
tion. I  was  not  yet  sixteen,  it  would  be  two  years  and  more 
before  I  could  have  a  say  as  to  the  disposition  of  my  own 
money,  yet  something  must  be  done  at  once. 

I  decided  to  lay  the  matter  before  Lawyer  Douglass.  Surely 
he  could  suggest  some  plan  whereby  I  might  assist  my  brother. 
I  had  a  half -matured  plan  of  my  own,  but  I  was  assured  that 
Will  would  not  listen  to  it. 

Mr.  Douglass  had  been  the  legal  adviser  of  the  family  since 
he  won  our  first  lawsuit  years  before.  We  considered  the  prob- 
lem from  every  side,  and  the  lawyer  suggested  that  Mr.  Buck- 
ley, an  old  friend  of  the  family,  had  a  team  and  wagon  for 
sale  ;  they  were  strong  and  serviceable  and  just  the  thing  that 
Will  would  likely  want.  I  was  a  minor,  but  if  Mr.  Buckley 
was  willing  to  accept  me  as  security  for  the  property  there 
would  be  no  difficulty  in  making  the  transfer. 

Mr.  Buckley  proved  entirely  agreeable  to  the  proposition. 
Will  could  have  the  outfit  in  return  for  his  note  with  my  in- 
dorsement. 

That  disposed  of,  the  question  of  freight  to  put  into  the 
wagon  arose.  I  thought  of  another  old  friend  of  the  family, 
M.  E.  Albright,  a  wholesale  grocer  in  Leavenworth.  Would 
he  trust  Will  for  a  load  of  supplies?  He  would. 

Thus  everything  was  arranged  satisfactorily,  and  I  hastened 
home  to  not  the  easiest  task — to  prevail  upon  Will  to  accept 
assistance  at  the  hands  of  the  little  sister  who,  not  so  long  ago, 
had  employed  his  aid  in  the  matter  of  a  pair  of  shoes. 

But  Will  could  really  do  nothing  save  accept,  and  proud 
and  happy,  he  sallied  forth  one  day  as  an  individual  freighter, 
though  not  a  very  formidable  rival  of  Russell,  Majors  &  Wad- 
dell. 

Alas  for  enterprises  started  on  borrowed  capital  !  How  many 
of  them  end  in  disaster,  leaving  their  projectors  not  only  pen- 


LAST   OF  THE    GREAT  SCOUTS.  125 

niless  but  in  debt.  Our  young  frontiersman,  whose  life  had 
been  spent  in  protecting  the  property  of  others,  was  powerless 
to  save  his  own.  Wagon,  horses  and  freight  were  all  cap- 
tured by  Indians,  and  their  owner  barely  escaped  with  his  life. 
From  a  safe  covert  he  watched  the  redskins  plunge  him  into 
bankruptcy.  It  took  him  several  years  to  recover,  and  he  has 
often  remarked  that  the  responsibility  of  his  first  business 
venture  on  borrowed  capital  aged  him  prematurely. 

The  nearest  station  to  the  scene  of  this  disaster  was  Junc- 
tion City,  and  thither  he  tramped,  in  the  hope  of  retrieving 
his  fortunes.  There  he  met  Colonel  Hickok,  and  in  the  pleas- 
ure of  the  greeting  forgot  his  business  ruin  for  a  space.  The 
story  of  his  marriage  and  his  stirring  adventures  as  a  landlord 
and  lover  of  his  fellow-man  were  first  to  be  related,  and  when 
these  were  commented  upon  and  his  old  friend  had  learned, 
too,  of  the  wreck  of  the  freighting  enterprise,  there  came  the 
usual  inquiry  : 

"  And  now,  do  you  know  of  a  job  with  some  money  in  it?  " 

"  There  isn't  exactly  a  fortune  in  it,"  said  Wild  Bill,  "  but 
I'm  scouting  for  Uncle  Sam  at  Fort  Ellsworth.  The  com- 
mandant needs  more  scouts,  and  I  can  vouch  for  you  as  a  good 
one. ' 

"  All  right/'  said  Will,  always  quick  in  decision,  "I'll  go 
along  with  you,  and  apply  for  a  job  at  once." 

He  was  pleased  to  have  Colonel  Hickok' s  recommendation, 
but  it  turned  out  that  he  did  not  need  it,  as  his  own  reputation 
had  preceded  him.  The  commandant  of  the  fort  was  glad  to 
add  him  to  the  force.  The  territory  he  had  to  scout  over  lay 
between  Forts  Ellsworth  and  Fletcher,  and  he  alternated  be- 
tween those  points  throughout  the  winter. 

It  was  at  Fort  Fletcher,  in  the  spring  of  '67,  that  he  fell  in 
with  the  dashing  General  Custer,  and  the  friendship  estab- 
lished between  them  was  ended  only  by  the  death  of  the  general 
at  the  head  of  his  gallant  three  hundred. 

This  spring  was  an  exceedingly  wet  one,  and  the  fort,  which 
lay  upon  the  bank  of  Big  Creek,  was  so  damaged. by  floods  that 


126  LAST   OF  THR   GRKAT    SCOUTS. 

it  was  abandoned.  A  new  fort  was  erected  some  distance  to 
the  westward,  on  the  south  fork  of  the  creek,  and  was  named 
Fort  Hayes. 

Returning  one  day  from  an  extended  scouting  trip,  Will  dis- 
jovered  signs  indicating  that  Indians  in  considerable  force  were 
in  the  neighborhood.  He  at  once  pushed  forward  at  all  speed 
to  report  the  news,  when  a  second  discovery  took  the  wind  out 
of  his  sails ;  the  hostiles  were  between  him  and  the  fort. 

At  that  moment  a  party  of  horsemen  broke  into  view,  and 
seeing  they  were  white  men,  Will  waited  their  approach.  The 
little  band  proved  to  be  General  Custer  and  an  escort  of  ten, 
en  route  from  Fort  Ellsworth  to  Fort  Hayes. 

Informed  by  Will  that  they  were  cut  off  by  Indians,  and  that 
the  only  hope  of  escape  lay  in  a  rapid  flank  movement,  Cus- 
ter's  reply  was  a  terse: 

"  Lead  on,  scout,  and  we'll  follow." 

Will  wheeled,  clapped  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  dashed  away, 
with  the  others  close  behind.  All  hands  were  sufficiently 
versed  in  Indian  warfare  to  appreciate  the  seriousness  of  their 
position.  They  pursued  a  roundabout  trail  and  reached  the 
fort  without  seeing  a  hostile,  but  learned  from  the  reports  of 
others  that  their  escape  had  been  a  narrow  one. 

Custer  was  on  his  way  to  I/arned,  sixty  miles  distant,  and 
he  needed  a  guide.  He  requested  that  Will  be  assigned  to  the 
position,  so  pleased  was  he  by  the  service  already  rendered. 

"  The  very  man  I  proposed  to  send  with  you,  General,"  said 
the  commandant,  who  knew  well  the  keen  desire  of  the  In- 
dians to  get  at  "  Yellow  Hair,"  as  they  called  Custer.  "  Cody 
knows  this  part  of  the  country  like  a  book,  he  is  up  to  all  the 
Indian  games,  and  he  is  as  full  of  resources  as  a  nut  is  of 
meat." 

At  daybreak  the  start  was  made,  and  it  was  planned  to 
cover  the  sixty  miles  before  nightfall.  Will  was  mounted  on 
a  mouse- colored  mule,  to  which  he  was  much  attached,  and  in 
which  he  had  every  confidence.  Custer,  however,  was  dis- 
posed to  regard  the  lowly  steed  in  some  disdain. 


tAST  OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  137 

"  Do  you  think,  Cody,  that  mule  can  set  the  pace  to  reach 
L,arned  in  a  day?  "  he  asked. 

"When  you  get  to  learned,  General,"  smiled  Will,  "the 
mule  and  I  will  be  with  you. ' ' 

Ouster  said  no  more  for  a  while,  but  the  pace  he  set  was 
eloquent,  and  the  mouse-colored  mule  had  to  run  under 
"  forced  draught  "  to  keep  up  with  the  procession.  It  was  a 
killing  pace,  too,  for  the  horses,  which  did  not  possess  the 
staying  power  of  the  mule.  Will  was  half  regretting  that  he 
had  ridden  the  animal,  and  was  wondering  how  he  could  crowd 
on  another  pound  or  two  of  steam,  when,  suddenly  glancing 
at  Custer,  he  caught  a  gleam  of  mischief  in  the  general's  eye. 
Plainly  the  latter  was  seeking  to  compel  an  acknowledgment 
of  error,  but  Will  only  patted  the  mouse-colored  flanks. 

Fifteen  miles  were  told  off,  Ouster's  thoroughbred  horse 
was  still  in  fine  fettle,  but  the  mule  had  got  the  second  of  its 
three  or  four  winds  and  was  ready  for  a  century  run. 

' '  Can  you  push  along  a  little  faster,  General  ?  ' '  asked  Will, 
slyly. 

"  If  that  mule  of  yours  can  stand  it,  go  ahead,"  was  the  reply. 

To  the  general's  surprise  the  long-eared  animal  did  go 
ahead,  and  when  the  party  got  into  the  hills  and  the  travel- 
ing grew  heavy,  it  set  a  pace  that  seriously  annoyed  the 
general's  thoroughbred. 

Fifteen  miles  more  were  pounded  out,  and  a  halt  was  called 
for  luncheon.  The  horses  needed  the  rest,  but  the  mouse- 
colored  mule  wore  an  impatient  expression.  Having  got  its 
third  wind,  it  wanted  to  use  it. 

"Well,  General,"  said  Will,  when  they  swung  off  on  the 
trail  again,  "what  do  you  think  of  my  mount  ?  " 

Custer  laughed.  "It's  not  very  handsome,"  said  he,  "  but 
it  seems  to  know  what  it's  about,  and  so  does  the  rider. 
You're  a  fine  guide,  Cody.  Like  the  Indian,  you  seem  to  go 
by  instinct,  rather  than  by  trails  and  landmarks." 

The  praise  of  Custer  was  sweeter  to  the  young  scout  than 
that  of  any  other  officer  on  the  plains  would  have  been. 


128  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

At  just  four  o'clock  the  mouse-colored  mule  jogged  into 
Fort  Lamed  and  waved  a  triumphant  pair  of  ears.  A  short 
distance  behind  rode  Custer,  on  a  thoroughly  tired  thorough- 
bred, while  the  escort  was  strung  along  the  trail  for  a  mile 
back. 

"Cody,"  laughed  the  general,  "that  remarkable  quad- 
ruped of  yours  looks  equal  to  a  return  trip.  Our  horses  are 
pretty  well  fagged  out,  but  we  have  made  a  quick  trip  and  a 
good  one.  You  brought  us  'cross  country  straight  as  the  crow 
flies,  and  that's  the  sort  of  service  I  appreciate.  Any  time 
you're  in  need  of  work  report  to  me.  I'll  see  that  you're  kept 
busy." 

It  was  Ouster's  intention  to  remain  at  Fort  learned  for  some 
time,  and  Will,  knowing  that  he  was  needed  at  Hayes,  tarried 
only  for  supper  and  a  short  rest  before  starting  back. 

When  night  fell  he  proceeded  warily.  On  the  way  out  he 
had  directed  Ouster's  attention  to  signs  denoting  the  nearby 
presence  of  a  small  band  of  mounted  Indians. 

Suddenly  a  distant  light  flashed  into  view,  but  before  he 
could  check  his  mule  it  had  vanished.  He  rode  back  a  few 
paces  and  the  light  reappeared.  Evidently  it  was  visible 
through  some  narrow  space,  and  the  matter  called  for  investi- 
gation. Will  dismounted,  hitched  his  mule  and  went  forward. 

After  he  had  covered  half  a  mile  he  found  himself  between 
two  sandhills,  the  pass  leading  into  a  little  hollow,  within  which 
were  a  large  number  of  Indians  camped  around  the  fire  whose 
light  he  had  followed.  The  ponies  were  in  the  background. 

Will's  position  was  somewhat  ticklish,  as,  without  a  doubt, 
an  Indian  sentinel  was  posted  in  the  pass;  yet  it  was  his  duty, 
as  he  understood  it,  to  obtain  a  measurably  accurate  estimate 
of  the  number  of  warriors  in  the  band.  Himself  a  very  Indian 
in  stealth,  he  drew  nearer  the  campfire,  when  suddenly  there 
rang  out  upon  the  night  air — not  a  rifle  shot,  but  the  un- 
earthly braying  of  his  mule. 

Even  in  the  daylight,  amid  scenes  of  peace  and  tranquillity, 
the  voice  of  a  mule  falls  short  of  the  not  enchanting  music  of 


I, AST   OF   THK   GREAT    SCOUTS.  129 

the  bagpipe.  At  night  in  the  wilderness,  when  every  nerve  is 
keyed  up  to  the  snapping  point,  the  sound  is  simply  appalling. 

Will  was  startled,  naturally,  but  the  Indians  were  thrown 
into  dire  confusion.  They  smothered  the  campfires  and  scat- 
tered for  cover,  while  a  sentinel  sprang  up  from  behind  a  rock 
not  twenty  feet  from  Will,  and  was  off  like  a  deer. 

The  scout  held  his  ground  till  he  had  made  a  good  guess  at 
the  number  of  Indians  in  the  party;  then  he  ran  for  his  mule, 
whose  voice,  raised  in  seeming  protest,  guided  him  unerringly. 

As  he  neared  the  animal  he  saw  that  two  mounted  Indians 
had  laid  hold  of  it,  and  were  trying  to  induce  it  to  follow 
them,  but  the  mule,  true  to  tradition  and  its  master,  stub- 
bornly refused  to  budge  a  foot. 

It  was  a  comical  tableau,  but  Will  realized  that  it  was  but  a 
step  from  farce  to  tragedy.  A  rifle  shot  dropped  one  of  the 
Indians,  and  the  other  darted  off  into  the  darkness. 

Another  bray  from  the  mule,  this  time  a  paean  of  triumph, 
as  Will  jumped  into  the  saddle,  with  an  arrow  from  the  bow 
of  the  wounded  Indian  through  his  coat  sleeve.  He  declined 
to  return  the  fire  of  the  wounded  wretch,  and  rode  away  into 
the  timber,  while  all  around  the  sound  of  Indians  in  pursuit 
came  to  his  ears. 

"Now,  my  mouse-colored  friend,"  said  Will,  "if  you  win 
this  race  your  name  is  Custer." 

The  mule  seemed  to  understand ;  at  all  events  it  settled 
down  to  work  that  combined  the  speed  of  a  racer  with  the 
endurance  of  a  buffalo.  The  Indians  shortly  abandoned  the 
pursuit,  as  they  could  not  see  their  game. 

Will  reached  Fort  Hayes  in  the  early  morning,  to  report  the 
safe  arrival  of  Custer  at  learned  and  the  discovery  of  the 
Indian  band,  which  he  estimated  at  two  hundred  braves.  The 
mule  received  "honorable  mention"  in  his  report,  and  was 
brevetted  a  thoroughbred. 

The  colonel  prepared  to  dispatch  troops  against  the  Indians, 
and  requested  Will  to  guide  the  expedition  if  he  were  suffi- 
ciently rested,  adding  with  a  smile: 


13O  tAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

"You  may  ride  your  mule  if  you  like." 

"No,  thank  you,"  laughed  Will.  "It  isn't  safe,  sir,  to 
hunt  Indians  with  an  animal  that  carries  a  brass  band  attach- 
ment." 

Major  Ames,  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry,  was  to  command  the 
expedition,  which  comprised  a  troop  of  colored  cavalry  and  a 
howitzer.  As  the  command  lined  up  for  the  start,  a  courier 
on  a  foam-splashed  horse  rode  up  with  the  news  that  the  work- 
men on  the  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad  had  been  attacked  by  In- 
dians, six  of  them  killed,  and  over  a  hundred  horses  and  mules 
and  a  quantity  of  stores  stolen. 

The  troops  rode  away  at  a  swift  pace,  the  colored  boys  pant- 
ing for  a  chance  at  the  redskins,  and  Major  Ames  more  than 
willing  to  gratify  them. 

At  nightfall  the  command  made  camp  near  the  Saline  River, 
at  which  point  it  was  expected  to  find  the  Indians.  Before 
dawn  they  were  in  the  saddle  again,  riding  straight  across 
country,  regardless  of  trails,  until  the  river  was  come  up  with. 

Will's  judgment  was  again  verified  by  the  discovery  of  a 
large  camp  of  hostiles  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  stream. 
The  warriors  were  as  quick  of  eye,  and  as  they  greatly  out- 
numbered the  soldiers,  and  were  emboldened  by  the  success  of 
their  late  exploit,  they  did  not  wait  the  attack,  but  came 
charging  across  the  river. 

They  were  nearly  a  mile  distant,  and  Major  Ames  had  time 
to  plant  the  howitzer  on  a  little  rise  of  ground.  Twenty  men 
were  left  to  handle  it.  The  rest  of  the  command  advanced  to 
the  combat. 

They  were  just  at  the  point  of  attack  when  a  fierce  yelling 
was  heard  in  the  rear,  and  the  major  discovered  that  his  re- 
treat to  the  gun  was  cut  off  by  another  band  of  reds,  and  that 
he  was  between  two  fires.  His  only  course  was  to  repulse  the 
enemy  in  front.  If  this  were  done,  and  the  colored  gunners 
did  not  flee  before  the  overwhelming  numbers,  he  might  unite 
his  forces  by  another  charge. 

The  warriors  came  on  with  their  usual  impetuosity,  whoop- 


tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

ing  and  screaming,  but  they  met  .such  a  raking  fire  from  the 
disciplined  troops  that  they  fell  back  in  disorder.  Just  then 
the  men  at  the  howitzer  opened  fire.  The  effect  of  this  field- 
piece  on  the  children  of  the  plains  was  magical — almost  ludi- 
crous— a  veritable  stampede  followed. 

"Follow  me  !  "  shouted  Major  Ames,  galloping  in  pursuit, 
but  in  their  eagerness  to  give  chase  the  troops  fell  into  such 
disorder  that  a  bugle-blast  recalled  them  before  any  further 
damage  was  done  the  flying  foe.  The  Indians  kept  right 
along,  however  ;  they  were  pretty  badly  frightened. 

Major  Ames  was  somewhat  chagrined  that  he  had  no  prison- 
ers, but  there  was  consolation  in  taking  back  nearly  all  the 
horses  that  had  been  stolen.  These  were  found  picketed  at 
the  camp  across  the  river,  where  likely  they  had  been  forgot- 
ten by  the  Indians  in  their  flight. 

Shortly  after  this,  Will  tried  his  hand  at  land  speculation. 
During  one  of  his  scouting  trips  to  Fort  Harker  he  visited 
Ellsworth,  a  new  settlement  three  miles  from  the  fort.  There 
he  met  a  man  named  Rose,  who  had  a  grading  contract  for  the 
Kansas  Pacific  Railroad,  near  Fort  Hayes.  Rose  had  bought 
land  at  a  point  through  which  the  railroad  was  to  run,  and 
proposed  staking  it  out  as  a  town,  but  he  needed  a  partner  in 
the  enterprise. 

The  site  was  a  good  one.  Big  Creek  was  hard  by,  and  it 
was  near  enough  to  the  fort  to  afford  settlers  reasonable  secu- 
rity against  Indian  raids.  Will  regarded  the  enterprise  favor- 
ably. Besides  the  money  sent  home  each  month,  he  had  put 
by  a  small  sum,  and  this  he  invested  in  the  partnership  with 
Rose. 

The  town  site  was  surveyed  and  staked  off  into  lots  ;  a  cabin 
was  erected  and  stocked  with  such  goods  as  are  needed  on  the 
frontier,  and  the  budding  metropolis  was  weighted  with  the 
classic  name  of  Rome. 

As  an  encouragement  to  settlers,  a  lot  was  offered  to  any  one 
that  would  agree  to  erect  a  building.  The  proprietors,  of  course, 
reserved  the  choicest  lots. 


132  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

Rome  boomed.  Two  hundred  cabins  went  up  in  less  than 
sixty  days.  Mr.  Rose  and  Will  shook  hands  and  complimented 
each  other  on  their  penetration  and  business  sagacity.  They 
were  coming  millionaires,  they  said.  Alas  !  they  were  but  babes 
in  the  woods. 

One  day  Dr.  W.  E.  Webb  alighted  in  Rome.  He  was  a 
gentleman  of  most  amiable  exterior,  and  when  he  entered  the 
store  of  Rose  &  Cody  they  prepared  to  dispose  of  a  large  bill 
of  goods.  But  Mr.  Webb  was  not  buying  groceries.  He  chat- 
ted a  while  about  the  weather  and  Rome,  and  then  suggested 
that  the  firm  needed  a  third  partner.  But  this  was  the  last 
thing  the  prospective  millionaires  had  in  mind,  and  the  sug- 
gestion of  their  visitor  was  mildly  but  firmly  waived. 

Dr.  Webb  was  not  a  gentleman  to  insist  upon  a  suggestion. 
He  was  locating  towns  for  the  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad  he  said, 
and  as  Rome  was  well  started  he  disliked  to  interfere  with  it, 
but,  really,  the  company  must  have  a  show. 

Neither  Mr.  Rose  nor  Will  had  had  experience  with  the 
power  of  a  big  corporation,  and  satisfied  that  they  had  the 
only  good  site  for  a  town  in  that  vicinity,  they  declared  that 
the  railroad  could  not  help  itself. 

Dr.  Webb  smiled  pleasantly,  and  not  without  compassion. 
"  Look  out  for  yourselves,"  said  he,  as  he  took  his  leave. 

And  within  sight  of  Rome  he  located  a  new  town.  The 
citizens  of  Rome  were  given  to  understand  that  the  railroad 
shops  would  be  built  at  the  new  settlement,  and  that  there  was 
really  nothing  to  prevent  it  becoming  the  metropolis  of  Kan- 
sas. 

Rome  became  a  wilderness.  Its  citizens  stampeded  to  the 
new  town,  and  Mr.  Rose  and  Will  revised  their  estimate  of 
their  penetration  and  business  sagacity. 

Meantime  the  home  in  L,eavenworth  had  been  gladdened  by 
the  birth  of  a  little  daughter,  whom  her  father  named  Arta.  As 
it  was  impossible  for  Will  to  return  for  some  months,  it  was 
planned  that  the  mother,  the  baby  and  I,  should  make  a  visit 
to  the  St,  IfOuis  home.  This  was  accomplished  safely,  and 


LAST   OF   THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  133 

while  the  grandparents  were  enraptured  with  the  baby,  I  was 
enjoying  the  delight  of  a  first  visit  to  a  large  city. 

When  the  new  town  was  regarded  as  an  assured  success  by 
Will,  he  had  journeyed  to  St.  Louis  after  his  wife  and  little 
one.  They  proceeded  with  him  to  the  cozy  cabin  home  he  had 
fitted  up,  while  I  went  back  to  Leavenworth. 

The  sojourn  of  the  family  on  the  frontier  was  very  brief. 
After  the  fall  of  Rome  it  was  no  longer  the  desirable  residence 
that  Will's  dreams  had  pictured  it,  and  as  Rome  passed  into 
oblivion  the  little  family  returned  to  St.  lyouis. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


HOW  THE  SOBRIQUET  OF  ' '  BUFFALO  BILL  '  *  WAS  WON — THE 
REMARKABLE  PERFORMANCES  OF  BRIGHAM  AND  LUCRE- 
TIA  BORGIA — A  CONTEST  OF  SKILL  IN  BUFFALO  HUNTING 
— WILL  RETURNS  TO  SCOUTING — A  DANGEROUS  RIDE — A 
TRICKY  MULE,  AND  WHAT  HAPPENED  TO  IT. 

N  frontier  days  a  man  had  but  to 
ask  for  work  to  get  it.  There 
was  enough  and  to  spare  for 
every  one.  The  work  that  paid 
best  was  the  kind  that  suited 
Will,  it  mattered  not  how  hard 
or  dangerous  it  might  be. 

At  the  time  Rome  fell  the 
work  on  the  Kansas  Pacific 
Railroad  was  pushing  forward 
at  a  rapid  rate,  and  the  junior 
member  of  the  once  prosperous 
firm  of  Rose  &  Cody  saw  a  new 
field  of  activity  open  for  him 

— that  of  buffalo  hunting.  Twelve  hundred  men  were  em- 
ployed on  the  railroad  construction,  and  Goddard  Brothers, 
who  had  undertaken  to  board  the  vast  crew,  were  hard  pressed 
to  obtain  fresh  meat.  To  supply  this  indispensable  buffalo 
hunters  were  employed,  and  as  Will  was  known  to  be  an  ex- 
pert buffalo  slayer,  Goddard  Brothers  were  glad  to  add  him  to 
their  "  commissary  staff."  His  contract  with  them  called  for 
an  average  of  twelve  buffaloes  daily,  for  which  he  was  to  receive 
five  hundred  dollars  a  month.  It  was  "  good  pay,"  the  desired 
feature,  but  the  work  was  hard  and  hazardous.  He  must  first' 
scour  the  country  for  his  game,  with  a  good  prospect  always 
134 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  135 

of  finding  Indians  instead  of  buffalo  ;  then,  when  the  game  was 
shot,  he  must  oversee  its  cutting  and  dressing  and  look  after 
the  wagons  that  transported  it  to  the  camp  where  the  workmen 
messed.  It  was  while  working  under  this  contract  that  he  ac- 
quired the  sobriquet  of  "  Buffalo  Bill."  It  clung  to  him  ever 
after,  and  he  wore  it  with  more  pride  than  he  would  have  done 
the  title  of  Prince  or  Grand  Duke.  Probably  there  are  thou- 
sands of  people  to-day  who  know  him  by  that  name  only. 

At  the  outset  he  procured  a  trained  buffalo-hunting  horse, 
which  went  by  the  unconventional  name  of  "Brigham,"  and 
from  the  government  he  obtained  an  improved,  breech-loading 
needle-gun,  which,  in  testimony  of  its  murderous  qualities,  he 
named  "  Lucretia  Borgia." 

Buffaloes  were  usually  plentiful  enough,  but  there  were  times 
when  the  camp  supply  of  meat  ran  short.  During  one  of  these 
dull  spells,  when  the  company  was  pressed  for  horses,  Brigham 
was  hitched  to  a  scraper.  One  can  imagine  his  indignation.  A 
racer  dragging  a  street-car  would  have  no  juster  cause  for  re- 
belling than  a  buffalo-hunter  tied  to  a  work  implement  in  the 
company  of  stupid  horses  that  never  had  a  thought  above  a 
plow,  a  hay-rake,  or  a  scraper.  Brigham  expostulated,  and  in 
such  plain  language  that  Will,  laughing,  was  on  the  point  of 
unhitching  him  when  a  cry  went  up — the  equivalent  of  a  whal- 
er's ''There  she  blows  !" — that  a  herd  of  buffaloes  was  coming 
over  the  hill. 

Brigham  and  the  scraper  parted  company  instantly  and  Will 
mounted  him  bareback,  the  saddle  being  at  the  camp  a  mile 
away.  Shouting  an  order  to  the  men  to  follow  him  with  a 
wagon  to  take  back  the  meat,  he  galloped  toward  the  game. 

There  were  other  hunters  that  day.  Five  officers  rode  out 
of  the  neighboring  fort  and  joined  Will  while  waiting  for  the 
buffaloes  to  come  up.  They  were  recent  arrivals  in  that  part 
of  the  country,  and  their  shoulder-straps  indicated  that  one 
was  a  captain  and  the  others  were  lieutenants.  They  did  not 
know  "  Buffalo  Bill."  They  saw  nothing  but  a  good-looking 
young  man  in  the  dress  of  a  working  man,  astride  a  not  hand- 


136  LAST   OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

some  horse,  which  had  a  blind  bridle  and  no  saddle.  It  was 
not  a  formidable  looking  hunting  outfit,  and  the  captain  was 
disposed  to  be  a  trifle  patronizing. 

"Hello!"  he  called  out.  "I  see  you're  after  the  same 
game  we  are  !  " 

' '  Yes,  sir, ' '  returned  Will.   ' '  Our  camp' s  out  of  fresh  meat. ' ' 

The  officer  ran  a  critical  eye  over  Brigham.  "  Do  you  ex- 
pect to  run  down  a  buffalo  with  a  horse  like  that  ?' '  said  he. 

"Why,"  said  Will,  innocently,  "  are  buffaloes  pretty 
speedy?" 

"  Speedy  ?  It  takes  a  fast  horse  to  overhaul  those  animals 
on  the  open  prairie." 

' '  Does  it  ?  "  said  Will,  and  the  officer  did  not  see  the  twinkle 
in  his  eye.  Nothing  amuses  a  man  more  than  to  be  instructed 
on  a  matter  that  he  knows  thoroughly,  and  concerning  which 
his  instructor  knows  nothing.  Probably  every  one  of  the 
officers  had  yet  to  shoot  his  first  buffalo. 

"Come  along  with  us,"  offered  the  captain,  graciously. 
"  We're  going  to  kill  a  few  for  sport,  and  all  we  care  for  are 
the  tongues  and  a  chunk  of  the  tenderloin;  you  can  have  the 
rest." 

' '  Thank  you, ' '  said  Will.     "I'll  follow  along. ' ' 

There  were  eleven  buffaloes  in  the  herd,  and  the  officers 
started  after  them  as  if  they  had  a  sure  thing  on  the  entire 
number.  Will  noticed  that  the  game  was  pointed  toward  a 
creek,  and  understanding  "the  nature  of  the  beast,"  started 
for  the  water  to  head  them  off. 

As  the  herd  went  past  him,  with  the  military  quintet  five 
hundred  yards  in  the  rear,  he  gave  Brigham 's  blind  bridle  a 
twitch,  and  in  a  few  jumps  the  trained  hunter  was  at  the  side 
of  the  rear  buffalo,  Lucretia  Borgia  spoke,  and  the  buffalo  fell 
dead.  Without  even  a  bridle  signal,  Brigham  was  promptly 
at  the  side  of  the  next  buffalo,  not  ten  feet  away,  and  this,  too, 
fell  at  the  first  shot.  The  maneuver  was  repeated  until  the 
last  buffalo  went  down.  Twelve  shots  had  been  fired,  then 
Brigham,  who  never  wasted  his  strength,  stopped. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  137 

The  officers  had  not  had  even  a  shot  at  the  game.  Astonish- 
ment was  written  on  their  faces  as  they  rode  up. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Will,  courteously,  as  he  dismounted, 
"  allow  me  to  present  you  with  eleven  tongues  and  as  much  of 
the  tenderloin  as  you  wish." 

"  By  jove!  "  exclaimed  the  captain,  "  I  never  saw  anything 
like  that  before.  Who  are  you,  anyway  ?  " 

"Will  Cody's  my  name." 

"  Well,  Will  Cody,  you  know  how  to  kill  buffalo,  and  that 
horse  of  yours  has  some  good  running  points  after  all." 

"  One  or  two,"  smiled  Will. 

Captain  Graham — as  his  name  proved  to  be — and  his  com- 
panions were  a  trifle  sore  over  missing  even  the  opportunity  of 
a  shot,  but  they  professed  to  be  more  than  repaid  for  their  dis- 
appointment by  witnessing  a  feat  they  had  not  supposed  pos- 
sible in  a  white  man — hunting  buffalo  without  a  saddle,  bridle 
or  reins.  Will  explained  that  Brigham  knew  more  about  the 
business  than  most  two-legged  hunters.  All  the  rider  was  ex- 
pected to  dp  was  to  shoot  the  buffalo.  If  the  first  shot  failed, 
Brigham  allowed  another,  if  this,  too,  failed,  Brigham  lost  pa- 
tience, and  was  as  likely  as  not  to  drop  the  matter  then  and 
there. 

It  was  this  episode  that  fastened  the  name  of  "Buffalo  Bill" 
upon  Will,  and  learning  of  it,  the  friends  of  Billy  Comstock, 
chief  of  scouts  at  Fort  Wallace,  filed  a  protest.  Comstock, 
they  said,  was  Cody's  superior  as  a  buffalo  hunter.  So  a 
match  was  arranged  to  determine  whether  it  should  be 
"  Buffalo  Bill  "  Cody  or  "  Buffalo  Bill  "  Comstock. 

The  hunting  ground  was  fixed  near  Sheridan,  Kansas,  and 
quite  a  crowd  of  spectators  were  attracted  by  the  news  of  the 
contest.  Officers,  soldiers,  plainsmen  and  railroad  men  took  a 
day  off  to  see  the  sport,  and  one  excuisioii  party  that  included 
many  ladies,  among  them  Louise,  came  up  from  St.  L,ouis. 

Referees  were  appointed  to  follow  each  man  and  keep  a  tally 
of  the  buffaloes  slain.  Comstock  was  mounted  on  his  favorite 
horse  and  carried  a  Henry  rifle  of  large  caliber,  Brigham  and 


138  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

Lucretia  went  with  Will.  The  two  hunters  rode  side  by  side 
until  the  first  herd  was  sighted  and  the  word  given,  when  off 
they  dashed  to  the  attack,  separating  to  the  right  and  left.  In 
this  first  trial  Will  killed  thirty-eight  and  Comstock  twenty- 
three.  They  had  ridden  miles,  and  the  carcasses  of  the  dead 
buffaloes  were  strung  all  over  the  prairie.  Luncheon  was 
served  at  noon,  and  scarcely  was  it  over  when  another  herd 
was  sighted,  composed  mainly  of  cows  with  their  calves.  The 
damage  to  this  herd  was  eighteen  and  fourteen,  in  favor  of 
Cody. 

In  those  days  the  prairies  were  alive  with  buffalo,  and  a 
third  herd  put  in  an  appearance  before  the  rifle  barrels  were 
cooled.  In  order  to  give  Brigham  a  share  of  the  glory,  Will 
pulled  off  saddle  and  bridle  and  advanced  bare-back  to  the 
slaughter. 

That  closed  the  contest.  Score,  sixty-nine  to  forty-eight. 
Comstock 's  friends  surrendered,  and  Cody  was  dubbed 
' '  Champion  Buffalo  Hunter  of  the  Plains. ' ' 

The  heads  of  the  buffaloes  that  fell  in  this  hunt  were  mounted 
by  the  Kansas  Pacific  Company  and  distributed  about  the 
country,  as  advertisements  of  the  region  the  new  road  was 
traversing.  Meantime  Will  continued  hunting  for  the  Kansas 
Pacific  contractors,  and  during  the  year  and  a  half  that  he 
supplied  them  with  fresh  meat  he  killed  four  thousand  two 
hundred  and  eighty  buffaloes.  But  when  the  railroad  reached 
Sheridan  it  was  decided  to  build  no  farther  at  that  time,  and 
Will  was  obliged  to  look  for  other  work. 

The  Indians  had  again  become  so  troublesome  that  a  general 
war  threatened  all  along  the  border,  and  General  Sheridan 
came  West  to  personally  direct  operations.  He  took  up  his 
quarters  at  Fort  Hayes,  where  ' '  Buffalo  Bill ' '  at  once  applied 
for  a  position  as  military  scout.  The  application  was  accepted 
and  he  was  assigned  to  Fort  learned. 

Shortly  afterward  it  became  necessary  to  send  dispatches 
from  Fort  Hayes  to  Fort  Dodge.  Ninety-five  miles  of  country 
lay  between,  and  every  mile  of  it  was  dangerous  ground. 


LAST  OK  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  139 

Fort  Dodge  was  surrounded  by  Indians,  and  three  scouts  had 
lately  been  killed  while  trying  to  get  dispatches  through,  but 
Will's  confidence  in  himself  or  his  destiny  was  unshakable,  and 
he  volunteered  to  take  the  dispatches  as  far,  at  least,  as  the 
Indians  would  let  him. 

"  It  is  a  dangerous  undertaking,"  said  General  Sheridan, 
' '  but  it  is  most  important  that  the  dispatches  should  go  through; 
so  if  you  are  willing  to  risk  it,  take  the  best  horse  you  can  find, 
and  the  sooner  you  start  the  better." 

Within  the  hour  the  scout  was  in  the  saddle.  At  the  outset 
Will  permitted  his  horse  to  set  his  own  pace,  for  in  case  of 
pursuit  he  should  want  the  animal  fresh  enough  to  at  least  hold 
his  own.  But  no  pursuit  materialized,  and  when  the  dawn 
came  up  he  had  covered  seventy  miles,  and  reached  a  station 
on  Pawnee  Fork  manned  by  colored  troops.  Here  he  delivered 
a  letter  to  Major  Cox,  the  officer  in  command,  and  after  eating 
breakfast  he  took  a  fresh  horse  and  resumed  his  journey  before 
the  sun  was  above  the  plain. 

Fort  Dodge  was  reached,  the  dispatches  delivered  by  nine 
o'clock,  and  Will  turned  in  for  a  needed  sleep.  When  he 
awoke,  he  was  assured  by  John  Austin,  chief  of  the  scouts  at 
Dodge,  that  his  coming  through  unharmed  from  Fort  Hayes 
was  little  short  of  a  miracle.  He  was  also  assured  that  a  jour- 
ney to  his  own  headquarters,  Fort  Larned,  would  be  even  more 
ticklish  than  his  late  ride,  as  the  hostiles  were  especially  thick 
in  that  direction.  But  the  officer  in  command  at  Dodge  de- 
sired to  send  dispatches  to  Larned,  and  as  none  of  the  other 
scouts  wrere  willing  to  take  them,  Will  volunteered  his  services. 

"  Larned' s  my  headquarters,"  said  he,  "  and  I  must  go  there 
anyway ;  so  if  you'll  give  me  a  good  horse,  I'll  take  your 
dispatches. ' ' 

"  We  haven't  a  decent  horse  left,"  said  the  officer,  "but you 
can  take  your  pick  of  some  fine  government  mules. ' ' 

Will  made  a  gesture  of  despair.  Another  race  on  mule-back 
with  Indians  was  not  an  inviting  prospect.  There  were  very 
few  mules  like  unto  his  quondam  mouse-colored  mount.  But 


140  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

he  succumbed  to  the  inevitable,  picked  out  the  most  enterpris- 
ing looking  mule  in  the  bunch  and  set  forth.  And  neither  he 
nor  the  mule  guessed  what  was  in  store  for  each  of  them. 

At  Coon  Creek  Will  dismounted  for  a  drink  of  water,  and 
the  mule  embraced  the  opportunity  to  pull  away  and  start  alone 
on  the  wagon  trail  to  Lamed.  Will  did  not  suspect  that  he 
should  have  any  trouble  in  overtaking  the  capricious  beast, 
but  at  the  end  of  a  mile  he  was  somewhat  concerned.  He  had 
threatened  and  entreated,  raged  and  cajoled.  'T was  all  wasted. 
The  mule  was  as  deaf  to  prayer  as  to  objurgation.  It  browsed 
contentedly  along  the  even  tenor  of  its  way,  so  near  and  yet 
so  far  from  the  young  man,  who,  like  "  panting  time,  toil'd 
after  it  in  vain."  And  L,arned  much  more  than  twenty 
miles  away. 

What  the  poet  calls  ' '  the  golden  exhalations  of  the  dawn  ' ' 
began  to  warm  the  grey  of  the  plain.  The  sun  was  in  the  roots 
of  the  grass.  Four  miles  away  the  lights  of  Larned  twinkled. 
The  only  blot  on  a  fair  landscape  was  the  mule — in  the  middle 
distance.  But  there  was  a  wicked  gleam  in  the  eye  of  the  foot- 
sore young  man  in  the  foreground. 

Boom  !  The  sunrise  gun  at  the  fort.  The  mule  threw  back 
its  head,  waved  its  ears  and  poured  forth  a  song  of  triumph, 
a  loud  exultant  bray. 

Crack  !  Will's  rifle.  Down  went  the  mule.  It  had  made 
the  fatal  mistake  of  gloating  over  its  villainy.  Never  again 
would  it  jeopardize  the  life  of  a  rider. 

It  had  been  a  thirty-five  mile  walk,  and  every  bone  in  Will's 
body  ached.  His  shot  alarmed  the  garrison,  but  he  was  soon 
on  the  ground  with  the  explanation,  and  after  turning  over  his 
dispatches,  he  sought  his  bed. 

During  the  day  General  Hazen  returned  under  escort  from 
Fort  Harker  with  dispatches  for  Sheridan,  and  Will  offered  to 
be  the  bearer  of  them.  An  army  mule  was  suggested,  but  he 
declined  to  again  put  his  life  in  the  keeping  of  such  an  animal. 
A  good  horse  was  selected  and  the  journey  made  without  inci- 
dent. 


LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  141 

General  Sheridan  was  roused  at  daylight  to  receive  the 
scout's  report,  and  praised  Will  warmly  for  having  undertaken 
and  safely  accomplished  three  such  long  and  dangerous  rides. 
More  substantial  commendation  came  later  in  the  form  of  pro- 
motion, Will  being  detailed  as  special  scout  for  General  Hazen. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


SATANTA,  CHIEF  OF  THE  KIOWAS — SCOUT  CODY  IS  CAPTURED 
AND  TOMAHAWKED  "FOR  A  JOKE" — A  STERN  CHASE — 
ONE  WAY  OF  BRINGING  MEAT  INTO  CAMP — GENERAL 
CARR'S  EXPEDITION — A  BIG  BATTLE  WITH  THE  REDSKINS. 

">  ~  —     ITHIN  plain  view  of  Fort  Darned 

lay  a  large  camp  of  Kiowas  and 
Comanches.  They  were  not 
yet  bedaubed  with  war  paint, 
but  they  were  as  restless  as  a 
panther  in  a  cage,  and  it  was 
only  a  matter  of  days  when 
they  would  whoop  and  howl 
with  the  loudest. 

The  principal  chief  of  the 
Kiowas  was  Satanta,  a  pow- 
erful and  resourceful  warrior, 
who  because  of  remarkable  tal- 
ents for  speech-making  was 

called  "the  Orator  of  the  Plains."  Satanta  was  short  and 
bullet-headed.  Hatred  for  the  whites  swelled  every  square 
inch  of  his  breast,  but  he  had  the  deep  cunning  of  his  people, 
with  some  especially  fine  points  of  treachery  learned  from  deal- 
ings with  dishonest  agents  and  traders.  There  probably  never 
was  an  Indian  so  depraved  that  he  could  not  be  corrupted  fur- 
ther by  association  with  a  rascally  white  man. 

When  the  Kiowas  were  friendly  with  the  government  Sa- 
tanta received  a  guest  with  all  the  magnificence  the  tribe 
afforded.  A  carpet  was  spread  for  the  white  man  to  sit  upon, 


LAST  OF   THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  143 

and  a  folding  board  was  set  up  for  a  table.  The  question  of 
expense  never  intruded. 

Individually,  too,  Satan ta  put  on  a  great  deal  of  style.  Had 
the  opportunity  come  to  him,  he  would  have  worn  a  silk  hat 
with  a  sack-coat,  or  a  dress  suit  in  the  afternoon.  As  it  was, 
he  produced  some  startling  effects  with  blanket  and  feathers. 

It  was  part  of  General  Hazen's  mission  to  Fort  learned  to  patch 
up  a  treaty  with  the  outraged  Kiowas  and  Comanches,  if  it  could 
be  brought  about.  On  one  warm  August  morning,  the  gen- 
eral set  out  for  Fort  Zarah,  on  a  tour  of  inspection.  Zarah 
was  on  the  Arkansas,  in  what  is  now  Barton  County,  Kansas. 
An  early  start  was  made,  as  it  was  desired  to  cover  the  thirty 
miles  by  noon.  The  general  rode  in  a  four-mule  army  ambu- 
lance, with  an  escort  of  ten  foot-soldiers,  in  a  four-mule  escort 
wagon. 

After  dinner  at  Zarah  the  general  went  on  to  Fort  Harker, 
leaving  orders  for  the  scout  and  soldiers  to  return  to  Larned 
on  the  following  day.  But  as  there  was  nothing  to  do  at  Fort 
Zarah,  Will  determined  to  return  at  once,  so  he  trimmed  the 
sails  of  his  mule-ship  and  squared  away  for  Larned. 

The  first  half  of  the  journey  was  without  incident,  but  when 
Pawnee  Rock  was  reached,  events  began  to  crowd  one  another. 
Some  forty  Indians  rode  out  from  behind  the  rock  and  sur- 
rounded the  scout. 

"  How  ?  How  ?  "  they  cried,  as  they  drew  near,  and  offered 
their  hands  for  the  white  man's  salutation. 

The  braves  were  in  war  paint,  and  intended  mischief,  but 
there  was  nothing  to  be  lost  by  returning  their  greeting,  so 
Will  extended  his  hand. 

One  warrior  seized  it  and  gave  it  a  violent  jerk;  another 
caught  the  mule's  bridle;  a  third  pulled  the  revolvers  from  the 
holsters;  a  fourth  snatched  the  rifle  from  across  the  saddle; 
while  a  fifth,  for  a  climax,  dealt  Will  a  blow  on  the  head  with 
a  tomahawk  that  nearly  stunned  him. 

Then  the  band  started  for  the  Arkansas  River,  lashing  the 
mule,  singing,  yelling  and  whooping.  For  one  supposed  to 


144  LAST   OF   THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

be  stolid  and  taciturn,  the  Indian  makes  a  good  deal  of  noise 
at  times. 

Across  the  river  was  a  vast  throng  of  warriors,  who  had 
finally  decided  to  go  on  the  war-path.  Will  and  his  captors 
forded  the  shallow  stream,  and  the  prisoner  was  conducted 
before  the  chiefs  of  the  tribe,  with  some  of  whom  he  was  ac- 
quainted. 

His  head  throbbed  from  the  tomahawking,  but  his  wits  were 
still  in  working  order,  and  when  asked  by  Satanta  where  he 
had  been,  he  replied  that  he  had  been  out  searching  for 
' '  whoa-haws. ' ' 

He  knew  that  the  Indians  had  been  promised  a  herd  of 
"whoa-haws,"  as  they  termed  cattle,  and  he  knew,  too,  that 
the  herd  had  not  arrived,  and  that  the  Indians  had  been  out  of 
meat  for  several  weeks,  hence  he  hoped  to  enlist  Satanta' s 
sympathetic  interest. 

He  succeeded.  Satanta  was  vastly  interested.  Where  were 
the  cattle  ?  Oh,  a  few  miles  back.  Will  had  been  sent  for- 
ward to  notify  the  Indians  that  an  army  of  sirloin  steaks  was 
advancing  upon  them. 

Satanta  was  much  pleased,  and  the  other  chiefs  were  like- 
wise interested.  Did  General  Hazen  say  the  cattle  were  for 
them  ?  Was  there  a  chance  that  the  scout  was  mistaken  ? 

Not  a1  chance,  and  with  becoming  dignity  Will  demanded  a 
reason  for  the  rough  treatment  he  had  received. 

Oh,  that  was  all  a  joke,  Satanta  explained.  The  Indians 
who  had  captured  the  white  chief  were  young  and  frisky. 
They  wished  to  see  whether  he  was  brave.  They  were  simply 
testing  him.  It  was  sport — just  a  joke. 

Will  did  not  offer  to  argue  the  matter.  No  doubt  an  excel- 
lent test  of  a  man's  courage  is  to  hit  him  over  the  head  with  a 
tomahawk.  If  he  lives  through  it,  he  is  brave  as  Agamemnon. 
But  Will  insisted  mildly  that  it  was  a  rough  way  to  treat 
friends,  whereupon  Satanta  read  the  riot  act  to  his  high-spirited 
young  men  and  bade  them  return  the  captured  weapons  to  the 
scout. 


LAST  OK  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  145 

The  next  question  was,  were  there  soldiers  with  the  cattle  ? 
Certainly,  replied  Will,  a  large  party  of  soldiers  were  escorting 
the  succulent  sirloins.  This  intelligence  necessitated  another 
consultation.  Evidently  hostilities  must  be  postponed  until 
after  the  cattle  had  arrived.  Would  Will  drive  the  cattle  to 
them  ?  He  would  be  delighted  to.  Did  he  desire  that  the 
chief's  young  men  should  accompany  him  ?  No,  indeed.  The 
soldiers,  also,  were  high-spirited,  and  they  might  test  the 
bravery  of  the  chief's  young  men  by  shooting  large  holes 
in  them.  It  would  be  much  better  if  the  scout  returned 
alone. 

Satanta  agreed  with  him,  and  Will  recrossed  the  river  with- 
out molestation,  but,  glancing  over  his  shoulder,  he  noted  a 
party  of  ten  or  fifteen  young  braves  slowly  following  him.  Sa- 
tanta was  an  extremely  cautious  chieftain. 

Will  rode  leisurely  up  the  gentle  slope  of  the  river's  bank, 
but  when  he  had  put  the  ridge  between  him  and  the  Indian 
camp  he  pointed  his  mule  westward  toward  Fort  Larned  and 
set  it  going  at  its  best  pace.  When  the  Indians  reached  the 
top  of  the  ridge,  from  where  they  could  scan  the  valley,  in 
which  the  advancing  cattle  were  supposed  to  be,  there  was  not 
a  horn  to  be  seen,  and  the  scout  was  flying  in  an  opposite  di- 
rection. 

They  gave  chase,  but  the  mule  had  a  good  start,  and  when 
it  got  its  second  wind — always  necessary  in  a  mule — the  In- 
dian ponies  gained  but  slowly.  When  Ash  Creek,  six  miles 
from  learned,  was  reached,  the  race  was  about  even,  but 
at  Pawnee  Rock,  two  miles  farther  on,  the  Indians  were  un- 
comfortably close  behind.  The  sunset  gun  at  the  fort  boomed 
a  cynical  welcome  to  the  man  four  miles  away,  flying  toward  it 
for  his  life. 

At  Pawnee  Fork,  two  miles  from  the  fort,  the  Indians  had 
crept  up  to  within  five  hundred  yards.  But  here,  on  the  farther 
bank  of  the  stream,  Will  came  upon  a  government  wagon  con- 
taining half  a  dozen  soldiers  and  Denver  Jim,  a  well-known 
scout. 


146  LAST    OF    THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

The  team  was  driven  among  the  trees,  and  the  men  hid  them- 
selves in  the  bushes,  and  when  the  Indians  came  along  they 
were  warmly  received.  Two  of  the  reds  were  killed;  the  others 
wheeled  and  rode  back  in  safety. 

In  1868  General  Sheridan  had  taken  command  of  all  the 
troops  in  the  field.  He  arranged  what  is  known  as  the  winter 
expeditions  against  the  Kiawas,  Comanches,  Southern  Chey- 
ennes  and  Arapahoes,  He  personally  commanded  the  expe- 
dition which  left  Fort  Dodge  with  General  Custer  as  chief  of 
cavalry,  while  General  Evans,  of  the  Third  U.  S.  Cavalry, 
started  for  Fort  Union,  New  Mexico.  General  Penrose  started 
for  Fort  Lyon,  Colorado,  and  General  Carr  was  ordered  from 
the  Republican  River  country  with  the  Fifth  Cavalry  to  Fort 
Wallace,  Kansas.  Will  at  this  time  had  a  company  of  forty 
scouts  with  General  Carr's  command.  He  was  ordered  by 
General  Sheridan  when  leaving  Fort  Lyon  to  follow  the  trail 
of  General  Penrose' s  command  until  it  was  overtaken.  General 
Carr  was  to  proceed  to  Fort  Lyon,  and  follow  on  the  trail  of 
General  Penrose,  who  had  started  from  there  three  weeks -be- 
fore, when,  as  Carr  ranked  Penrose,  he  would  then  take  com- 
mand of  both  expeditions.  It  was  the  2ist  of  Novem- 
ber when  Carr's  expedition  left  Fort  Lyon.  The  second  day 
out  they  encountered  a  terrible  snow  storm  and  blizzard  in  a 
place  they  christened  "  Freeze  Out  Canon"  by  which  name 
it  is  still  known.  As  Penrose  had  only  a  pack  train  and  no 
heavy  wagons  and  the  ground  was  covered  with  snow,  it  was  a 
very  difficult  matter  to  follow  his  trail.  But  taking  his  general 
course  they  finally  came  up  with  him  on  the  south  fork  of  the 
Canadian  River,  where  they  found  him  and  his  soldiers  in  a 
sorry  plight,  subsisting  wholly  on  buffalo  meat.  Their  ani- 
mals had  all  frozen  to  death. 

General  Carr  made  what  is  known  as  a  supply  camp,  leaving 
Penrose' s  command  and  some  of  his  own  disabled  stock  therein. 
Taking  with  him  the  Fifth  Cavalry  and  the  best  horses  and 
pack  mules,  he  started  south  toward  the  main  fork  of  the  Cana- 
dian River,  looking  for  the  Indians.  He  was  gone  from  the 


tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  147 

supply  camp  thirty  days,  but  could  not  locate  the  main  band  of 
Indians,  as  they  were  further  to  the  east,  where  General 
Sheridan  had  located  them,  and  had  sent  General  Custer  in  to 
fight  them,  which  he  did,  in  what  is  known  as  the  great  battle 
of  Wichita. 

They  had  a  very  severe  winter  and  returned  in  March  to 
FortL,yon,  Colorado. 

In  the  .spring  of  1869  they  moved  to  Fort  McPherson,  Ne- 
braska. 

In  the  spring  of  '69,  the  Fifth  Cavalry,  ordered  to  the  De- 
partment of  the  Platte,  took  up  the  line  of  march  for  Fort  Mc- 
Pherson, Nebraska,  and  for  this  expedition  Will  was  appointed 
guide  and  chief  of  scouts. 

It  was  a  large  command,  including  seventy-six  wagons  for 
stores,  ambulance  wagons  and  pack-mules.  Those  chief  in 
authority  were  Colonel  Royal  (afterward  superseded  by  Gen- 
eral Carr),  Major  Brown  and  Captain  Sweetman. 

The  average  distance  covered  daily  was  only  ten  miles,  and 
when  the  troops  reached  the  Solomon  River  there  was  no  fresh 
meat  in  camp.  Colonel  Royal  asked  Will  to  look  up  some 
game. 

11  All  right,  sir,"  said  Will.  "  Will  you  send  a  couple  of 
wagons  along  to  fetch  in  the  meat  ?  " 

"  We'll  send  for  the  game,  Cody,  when  there's  some  game 
to  send  for,"  curtly  replied  the  colonel. 

That  settled  the  matter,  surely,  and  Will  rode  away,  a  trifle 
ruffled  in  temper. 

He  was  not  long  in  rounding  up  a  herd  of  seven  buffaloes, 
and  he  headed  them  straight  for  camp.  As  he  drew  near  the 
lines  he  rode  alongside  his  game  and  brought  down  one  after 
another,  until  only  an  old  bull  remained.  This  he  killed  in 
almost  the  center  of  the  camp. 

The  charge  of  the  buffaloes  had  nearly  stampeded  the 
picketed  horses,  and  Colonel  Royal,  who  with  the  other  officers 
had  watched  the  hunt,  demanded  somewhat  angrily  : 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Cody  ?  " 


148  LAST  OF  THE  GRKAT    SCOUTS. 

"  Why,' '  said  Will,  "I  thought,  sir,  I'd  save  you  the 
trouble  of  sending  after  the  game." 

The  colonel  smiled,  though  perhaps  the  other  officers  en- 
joyed the  joke  more  than  he. 

At  the  north  fork  of  the  Beaver  Will  discovered  a  large  and 
fresh  Indian  trail.  The  tracks  were  scattered  all  over  the 
valley,  showing  that  a  large  village  had  recently  passed  that 
way.  Will  estimated  that  at  least  four  hundred  lodges  were 
represented ;  that  would  mean  from  twenty -five  hundred  to 
three  thousand  warriors,  squaws  and  children. 

When  General  Carr  (who  had  taken  the  command)  got  the 
news  lie  followed  down  a  ravine  to  Beaver  Creek,  and  here  the 
regiment  went  into  camp.  lieutenant  Ward  and  a  dozen  men 
were  detailed  to  accompany  Will  on  a  reconnaissance.  They 
followed  Beaver  Creek  for  twelve  miles,  and  then  the  lieuten- 
ant and  the  scout  climbed  a  knoll  for  a  survey  of  the  country. 
One  glance  took  in  a  large  Indian  village  some  three  miles  dis- 
tant. Thousands  of  ponies  were  picketed  out,  and  small  bands 
of  warriors  were  seen  returning  from  the  hunt,  laden  with 
buffalo  meat. 

"  I  think,  Lieutenant,"  said  Will,  "  that  we  have  important 
business  at  camp." 

"I  agree  with  you,"  said  Ward.  "The  quicker  we  get 
out  of  here,  the  better." 

When  they  rejoined  the  men  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  Ward 
dispatched  a  courier  to  General  Carr,  the  purpose  of  the  lieu- 
tenant being  to  follow  slowly  and  meet  the  troops,  which  he 
knew  would  be  sent  forward. 

The  courier  rode  away  at  a  gallop,  but  in  a  few  moments 
came  riding  back  with  three  Indians  at  his  horse's  heels.  The 
little  company  charged  the  warriors,  who  turned  and  fled  for 
the  village. 

' '  Lieutenant, ' '  said  Will,  ' '  give  me  that  note, ' '  and  as  it  was 
passed  over,  he  clapped  spurs  to  his  horse  and  started  for  the 
camp. 

He  had  proceeded  but  a  short  distance  when  he  came  upon 


LAST  OK  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  149 

another  party  of  Indians  returning  to  the  village  with  buffalo 
meat.  Without  stopping  he  fired  a  long-range  shot  at  them,  and 
while  they  hesitated,  puzzled  by  the  action,  he  galloped  past. 
The  warriors  were  not  long  in  recovering  from  their  surprise, 
and  cutting  loose  their  meat,  followed,  but  their  ponies  were 
tired  from  a  long  hunt,  and  Will's  fresh  horse  ran  away  from 
them. 

When  General  Carr  received  the  lieutenant's  dispatch  he 
ordered  the  bugler  to  sound  the  inspiriting  ' '  Boots  and  Sad- 
dles," and,  while  two  companies  remained  to  guard  the 
wagons,  the  rest  of  the  troops  hastened  against  the  Indians. 

Three  miles  out  they  were  joined  by  Lieutenant  Ward's 
company,  and  five  miles  more  brought  them  within  sight  of  a 
huge  mass  of  mounted  Indians  advancing  up  the  creek.  These 
warriors  were  covering  the  retreat  of  their  squaws,  who  were 
packing  up  and  getting  ready  for  hasty  flight. 

General  Carr  ordered  a  charge  on  the  red  line.  If  it  were 
broken  the  cavalry  was  to  continue  and  surround  the  village. 
The  movement  was  successfully  executed,  but  one  officer  mis- 
understood the  order,  and,  charging  on  the  left  wing  of  the 
hostiles,  was  speedily  hemmed  in  by  some  three  hun- 
dred redskins.  Reinforcements  were  dispatched  to  his  relief, 
but  the  plan  of  battle  was  spoiled,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
afternoon  was  spent  in  contesting  the  ground  with  the  Indians, 
who  fought  for  their  lodges,  squaws  and  children  with  desper- 
ate and  dogged  courage.  When  night  came  on,  the  wagon 
trains,  which  had  been  ordered  to  follow,  had  not  put  in  an 
appearance,  and,  though  the  regiment  went  back  to  look  for 
them,  it  was  nine  o'clock  before  they  were  reached. 

Camp  was  broken  at  daybreak,  and  the  pursuit  began,  but 
not  an  Indian  was  in  sight.  All  the  day  the  trail  was  fol- 
lowed. There  was  evidence  that  the  Indians  had  abandoned 
everything  that  might  hinder  their  flight.  That  night  the 
regiment  camped  on  the  banks  of  the  Republican,  and  the 
next  morning  caught  a  distant  glimpse  of  the  foe. 

About  eleven  o'clock  a  charge  was  made  by  three  hundred 


150  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

mounted  warriors,  but  they  were  repulsed  with  considerable 
loss,  and  when  they  discovered  that  defeat  was  certain,  they 
evaded  further  pursuit  by  breaking  up  into  companies  and 
scattering  to  all  points  of  the  compass.  A  large  number  of 
ponies  were  collected  as  trophies  of  this  expedition. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


AT  FORT  MCPHERSON — PAWNEE  SCOUTS — ' '  BUCKSKIN  JOE  ' '  — 
THE  CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  THE  SIOUX — THE  STAND  IN  THE 
RAVINE — A  LONG  SHOT,  AND  THE  FALL  OF  TALL  BULL — 
HIS  WIDOW'S  SENTIMENTS. 

N  due  time  the  Fifth  Cavalry 
reached  Fort  McPherson. 
General  Augur  was  in  com- 
mand of  the  Department  of  the 
Platte,  with  his  headquarters 
at  Omaha.  Will's  fancy  had 
been  so  taken  by  the  scenery 
along  the  line  of  march  that 
he  proceeded  to  explore  the 
country  around  McPherson, 
the  result  being  a  determina- 
tion to  make  his  future  home 
in  the  Platte  Valley. 

Shortly  after  reaching  the 
fort  the  scouts'  division  of  the  Fifth  Cavalry  was  reinforced  by 
Major  Frank  North  and  three  companies  of  the  celebrated 
Pawnee  scouts.  These  became  the  most  interesting  and  amus- 
ing objects  in  camp,  partly  on  account  of  their  race,  but  mainly 
because  of  the  bizarre  dress  fashions  they  affected.  My  brother 
in  his  autobiography  describes  the  appearance  presented  by 
these  scouts  during  a  review  of  the  command  by  Brigadier- 
General  Duncan. 

The  regiment  made  a  fine  showing,  the  men  were  well 
drilled  and  thoroughly  versed  in  the  tactics.  The  Pawnees 
also  showed  up  well  on  drill,  but  their  full-dress  uniforms  were 


152  LAST   OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

calculated  to  excite  even  the  army  horses  to  laughter.  Regular 
cavalry  suits  had  been  furnished  them,  but  no  two  of  the 
Pawnees  seemed  to  agree  as  to  the  correct  manner  in  which  the 
various  articles  should  be  worn.  As  they  lined  up  for  dress 
parade  some  of  them  wore  heavy  overcoats,  others  discarded 
even  pantaloons,  content  with  a  breech-clout.  Some  wore 
large  black  hats,  with  brass  accoutrements,  others  were  bare- 
headed. Many  wore  the  pantaloons,  but  declined  the  shirts, 
while  a  few  of  the  more  original  cut  the  seats  from  the  panta- 
loons, leaving  only  leggings.  Half  of  them  were  without 
boots  or  moccasins,  but  wore  the  clinking  spurs  with  manifest 
pride. 

They  were  a  quaint  and  curious  lot,  but  drilled  remarkably 
well  for  Indians,  and  obeyed  orders.  They  were  devoted  to 
their  white  chief,  Major  North,  who  spoke  Pawnee  like  a 
native,  and  they  were  very  proud  of  their  position  in  the 
United  States  Army.  Good  soldiers  they  made,  too — hard 
riders,  crack  shots,  and  desperate  fighters. 

At  the  close  of  the  parade  and  review  referred  to,  the 
officers  and  the  ladies  attended  an  Indian  dance  given  by  the 
Pawnees,  which  climaxed  a  rather  exciting  day. 

The  following  morning  an  expedition  moved  back  to  the 
Republican  River,  to  curb  the  high  spirits  of  a  band  of  Sioux, 
who  had  grown  boldly  troublesome.  This  was  the  sort  of 
service  the  Pawnees  welcomed,  as  they  and  the  Sioux  were 
hereditary  enemies. 

At  the  journey's  end  camp  was  made  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Beaver,  and  the  Sioux  were  heard  from  within  the  hour.  A 
party  of  them  raided  the  mules  that  had  been  taken  to  the 
river,  and  the  alarm  was  given  by  a  herder,  who  dashed  into 
camp  with  an  arrow  sticking  in  his  shoulder. 

Will  did  not  wait  to  saddle  his  horse,  but  the  Pawnees  were 
as  quick  as  he,  and  both  of  them  rather  surprised  the  Sioux, 
who  did  not  expect  such  a  swift  response.  Especially  were 
they  surprised  to  find  themselves  confronted  by  their  tribal 
foe,  the  Pawnee,  and  they  fell  back  hastily,  closely  pressed  by 


tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  153 

Will  and  his  red  allies.  A  running  fight  was  kept  up  for 
fifteen  miles,  and  when  many  of  the  Sioux  had  been  stretched 
upon  the  plain  and  the  others  scattered,  the  pursuing  party 
returned  to  camp. 

Will,  himself  on  a  fine  horse,  had  been  somewhat  chagrined 
at  being  passed  in  the  chase  by  a  Pawnee  on  an  inferior  look- 
ing steed.  Upon  inquiring  of  Major  North  he  found  that  the 
swifter  horse  was,  like  his  own,  government  property.  The 
Pawnee  was  much  attached  to  his  mount,  but  he  was  also  fond 
of  tobacco,  and  a  few  pieces  of  that  commodity,  supplemented 
by  some  other  articles,  induced  him  to  exchange  horses.  Will 
named  his  new  charge  "  Buckskin  Joe,"  and  rode  him  for  four 
years.  Joe  proved  a  worthy  successor  to  Brigham  for  speed, 
endurance  and  intelligence. 

This  was  the  first  adventure  that  Will  and  the  Pawnees  had 
pursued  together,  and  they  emerged  with  an  increased  esteem 
for  each  other.  Not  long  afterward  Will's  skill  as  a  buffalo 
hunter  raised  the  admiration  of  the  Indians  to  enthusiasm. 

Twenty  Pawnees  that  circled  around  one  herd  of  buffaloes 
killed  only  twenty-two,  and  when  the  next  herd  came  in  view 
Will  asked  Major  North  to  keep  the  Indians  in  the  background 
while  he  showed  them  a  thing  or  two.  Buckskin  Joe  was  a 
capital  buffalo  hunter,  and  so  well  did  he  perform  his  part  that 
Will  brought  down  thirty-six,  about  one  at  every  shot. 

The  Pawnees  were  delighted.  They  held  it  considerable  of 
an  achievement  to  kill  two  or  three  of  the  monarchs  of  the 
plains  at  a  single  run,  and  Will's  feat  dazzled  them.  He  was 
at  once  pronounced  a  great  chief,  and  ever  after  occupied  a 
high  niche  in  their  regard. 

Moving  up  the  Republican  River,  the  troops  went  into  camp 
on  Black  Tail  Deer  Fork.  Scarcely  were  the  tents  pitched 
when  a  band  of  Indians  were  seen  sweeping  towards  them  at 
full  speed,  singing,  yelling,  and  waving  lances.  The  camp  was 
alive  in  an  instant,  but  the  Pawnees  instead  of  preparing  for 
defense,  began  to  sing  and  yell  in  unison  with  the  advancing 
braves.  "  Those  are  some  of  our  own  Indians,"  said  Major 


154  tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

North;  "they've  had  a  fight  and  are  bringing  in  the 
scalps. ' ' 

And  so  it  proved.  The  Pawnees  reported  a  skirmish  with 
the  Sioux,  in  which  a  few  of  the  latter  had  been  killed. 

The  next  day  the  regiment  set  forth  upon  the  trail  of  the 
Sioux.  They  traveled  rapidly,  and  plainly  gained  ground. 

At  every  camp  the  print  of  a  woman's  shoe  was  noted  among 
the  tracks  of  rnoccasined  feet.  The  band  evidently  had  a  white 
captive  in  tow,  and  General  Carr,  selecting  the  best  horses, 
ordered  a  forced  march, the  wagon  trains  to  follow  as  rapidly  as 
possible.  Will,  with  six  Pawnees,  was  to  go  ahead  and  locate 
the  hostiles  and  send  back  word,  so  that  a  plan  of  attack  might 
be  arranged  before  the  Indian  village  was  reached. 

This  village  the  scouts  discovered  among  the  sand-hills  at 
Summit  Springs,  a  few  miles  from  the  South  Platte  River,  and 
while  the  Pawnees  remained  to  watch,  Will  returned  to  Gen- 
eral Carr  with  the  news. 

There  was  suppressed  excitement  all  along  the  line,  as  offi- 
cers and  men  prepared  for  what  promised  to  be  a  lively  scrim- 
mage. The  troops  moved  forward  by  a  circuitous  route,  and 
reached  a  hill  overlooking  the  hostile  camp  without  their  pres- 
ence being  dreamed  of  by  the  red  men. 

The  bugler  was  ordered  to  sound  the  charge,  but  he  was 
trembling  with  excitement  and  unable  to  blow  a  note. 

' '  Sound  the  charge,  man  ! ' '  ordered  General  Carr,  a  second 
time,  but  the  unhappy  wight  could  scarcely  hold  his  horn, 
much  less  blow  it.  Quartermaster  Hays  snatched  the  instru- 
ment from  the  flustered  man's  hands,  and  as  the  call  rang  out 
loud  and  clear  the  troops  rushed  to  the  attack. 

Taken  wholly  by  surprise,  the  Indian  village  went  to  pieces 
in  a  twinkling.  A  few  of  the  Sioux  mounted  and  rode  forward 
to  repel  the  assault,  but  they  turned  back  in  half  a  minute, 
while  those  that  were  not  mounted  scattered  for  the  foothills 
hard  by.  The  cavalry  swept  through  the  village  like  a  prairie 
fire,  and  pursued  the  flying  Indians  until  darkness  put  an  end 
to  the  chase. 


tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  155 

By  the  next  morning  the  bugler  had  grown  calm  enough  to 
sound  the  call  "  Boots  and  Saddles  !  "  and  General  Carr  split 
his  force  into  companies,  as  it  was  discovered  that  the  Indians 
had  divided.  Kach  company  was  to  follow  a  separate  trail. 

Will  made  one  of  a  band  of  two  hundred,  and  for  two  days 
they  dogged  the  red  man's  footsteps.  At  sunrise  of  the  third 
day  the  trail  ran  into  another,  showing  that  the  Sioux  had  re- 
united their  forces.  This  was  serious  for  the  little  company 
of  regulars,  but  they  went  ahead,  eager  for  a  meeting  with  the 
savages. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait.  The  sun  was  scarcely  an  hour 
high  when  some  six  hundred  Sioux  were  espied  riding  in  close 
ranks  along  the  bank  of  the  Platte.  The  Indians  discovered 
the  troops  at  the  same  moment  and  at  once  gave  battle.  The 
Indian  is  not  a  coward,  though  he  frequently  declines  combat  if 
the  odds  are  not  largely  in  his  favor. 

In  this  engagement  the  Sioux  outnumbered  the  soldiers 
three  to  one,  and  the  latter  fell  back  slowly  until  they  reached 
a  ravine.  Here  they  tethered  their  horses  and  awaited  the 
course  of  Indian  events,  which,  as  usual,  came  in  circular  form. 
The  Sioux  surrounded  the  regulars,  and,  finding  them  com- 
paratively few  in  number,  made  a  gallant  charge. 

But  bows  and  arrows  are  futile  against  powder  and  ball,  and 
the  warriors  reeled  back  from  a  scathing  fire,  leaving  a  score 
of  their  number  dead. 

Another  charge;  another  repulse,  and  then  a  council  of  war. 
This  lasted  an  hour  and  evidently  evolved  a  brilliant  stratagem, 
for  the  Sioux  divided  into  two  bands,  and  while  one  made  a 
show  of  withdrawing,  the  other  circled  around  and  around  the 
position  where  the  soldiers  lay. 

At  a  point  in  this  revolving  belt  of  redskins  rode  a  well- 
mounted,  handsome  warrior,  plainly  a  chief.  It  had  been 
Will's  experience  that  to  lay  low  a  chief  was  half  the  battle 
when  fighting  Indians,  but  this  particular  mogul  kept  just  out 
of  rifle  shot.  There  are,  however,  as  many  ways  of  killing  an 
Indian  as  of  killing  a  cat,  so  Will  crawled  on  hands  and  knees 


156  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

along  the  ravine  to  a  point  which  he  thought  would  be  within 
range  of  the  thief  when  next  he  swung  around  the  circle. 

The  calculation  was  close  enough,  and  when  the  warrior 
came  loping  along,  slacking  his  pace  to  cross  the  ravine,  Will 
rose  and  fired. 

It  was  a  good  four  hundred  yards,  but  the  warrior  pitched 
from  his  seat,  and  his  pony  ran  down  the  ravine  into  the  ranks 
of  the  soldiers,  who  were  so  elated  over  the  success  of  the  shot 
that  they  voted  the  animal  to  Will  as  a  trophy. 

The  fallen  warrior  was  Tall  Bull,  one  of  the  ablest  chiefs 
the  Sioux  ever  had.  His  death  so  disheartened  his  braves 
that  they  at  once  retreated. 

A  union  of  General  Carr's  scattered  forces  followed,  and  a 
few  days  later  an  engagement  took  place  in  which  three  hun- 
dred warriors  and  a  large  number  of  ponies  were  captured. 
Some  white  captives  were  released,  and  several  hundred  squaws 
made  prisoners. 

Among  these  latter  was  the  amiable  widow  of  Tall  Bull, 
who,  far  from  cherishing  animosity  against  Will  as  the  slayer 
of  her  spouse,  took  pride  in  the  fact  that  he  had  fallen  under 
the  fire  of  so  great  a  warrior  as  "Pahaska,"  Long-haired 
Chief,  by  which  name  our  scout  was  known  among  the  Indians. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


ARMY  LIFE  AT  FORT  MCPHERSON — A  BUFFALO  HUNT,  AND 
WHAT  CAME  OF  IT — "  WILLIAM  F.  CODY,  JUSTICE  OF  THE 
PEACE" — THE  BEACON  ON  THE  HILLTOP — NED  BUNT- 
LINE —  THE  SIOUX  LEGEND  OF  THE  CREATION  —  THE 
GREAT  SPIRIT'S  MASTERPIECE. 

N  the  spring  of  '70  Will  pro- 
ceeded to  put  into  effect  the 
determination  of  the  previous 
year — to  establish  a  home  in 
the  lovely  country  of  the  west- 
erly Platte.  After  preparing 
quarters  wherein  his  family 
might  be  comfortable,  he  ob- 
tained a  leave  of  absence  and 
departed  for  St.  Louis  to  fetch 
his  wife  and  daughter  Arta, 
now  a  beautiful  child  of  three. 

The  fame  of  "Buffalo  Bill" 
had   extended   far   beyond  the 

plains,  and  during  his  month's  sojourn  in  St.  Louis  he  was 
the  object  of  a  great  deal  of  attention.  When  the  family  pre- 
pared to  depart  for  the  frontier  home  my  sister-in-law  wrote 
to  me  to  a.sk  if  I  did  not  wish  to  accompany  them.  I  should 
have  been  delighted  to  accept  the  invitation,  but  at  that 
especial  time  there  were  strong  attractions  for  me  in  my  child- 
hood's home,  besides  I  felt  that  sister  May,  who  had  not 
enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  the  St.  Louis  trip,  was  entitled  to  the 
Western  jaunt. 

So  May  made  a  visit  to  McPherson,  and  a  delightful  time 
she  had,  though  she  was  at  first  inclined  to  quarrel  with  the 

'57 


158  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

severe  discipline  of  army  life.  Will  ranked  with  the  officers, 
who  were  not  suffered  to  associate  with  those  of  inferior  grade, 
and  as  a  result,  May's  social  companions  were  limited  to  the 
two  daughters  of  General  Augur,  who  were  also  on  a  visit  to 
the  fort.  To  compensate  for  the  shortage  of  feminine  society, 
however,  there  were  a  number  of  young  unmarried  officers. 

Every  day  had  its  curious  or  enlivening  incident,  and  May's 
letters  to  me  were  filled  with  accounts  of  the  gaiety  of  life  at 
an  army  post.  After  several  months  I  was  invited  to  join  her. 
She  was  enthusiastic  over  a  proposed  buffalo  hunt,  as  she 
desired  to  take  part  in  one  before  her  return  to  Leaven  worth, 
and  wished  me  to  enjoy  the  sport  with  her. 

In  accepting  the  invitation  I  fixed  a  certain  day  for  my 
arrival  at  McPherson,  but  I  was  delayed  in  my  journey,  and 
did  not  reach  the  fort  until  three  days  after  the  date  set.  May 
was  much  disturbed.  She  had  allowed  me  three  days  for 
recuperation  from  the  journey,  and  I  had  arrived  on  the  eve  of 
the  buffalo  hunt.  Naturally  I  was  too  fatigued  to  rave  over 
buffaloes,  and  I  objected  to  joining  the  hunt;  and  I  was  en- 
couraged in  my  objecting  by  the  discovery  that  my  brother 
was  away  on  a  scouting  trip. 

"You  don't  think  of  going  buffalo  hunting  without  Will,  do 
you?"  I  asked  May. 

"Why,"  said  she,  "we  can  never  tell  when  he  will  be  in 
camp  and  when  away;  he's  off  scouting  nearly  all  the  time. 
And  we  can't  get  up  a  buffalo  hunt  on  five  minutes'  notice; 
we  must  plan  ahead.  Our  party  is  all  ready  to  start,  and 
there's  a  reporter  here  from  an  Omaha  paper  to  write  it  up. 
We  can't  put  it  off,  and  you  must  go." 

After  that,  of  course,  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said, 
and  when  the  hunting  party  set  forth  I  made  one  of  it. 

A  gay  party  it  was.  For  men,  there  were  a  number  of  offi- 
cers and  the  newspaper  man,  Dr.  Frank  Powell,  now  of  I^a 
Crosse ;  for  women,  the  wives  of  two  of  the  officers,  the 
daughters  of  General  Augur,  May  and  myself.  There  was 
sunshine,  laughter  and  incessant  chatter,  and  when  one  is 


tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  159 

young  and  fond  of  horseback  riding,  and  a  handsome  young 
officer  rides  by  one's  side,  physical  fatigue  is  apt  to  vanish  for 
a  time. 

The  fort  was  soon  nothing  but  a  break  in  the  sky-line,  and 
with  a  sense  almost  of  awe  I  looked  for  the  first  time  upon  the 
great  American  Desert.  To  our  left,  as  we  rode  eastward,  ran 
the  swift  and  shallow  Platte,  dotted  with  green-garbed  islands. 
This  river  Washington  Irving  called  ' '  the  most  magnificent 
and  the  most  useless  of  streams."  "The  islands,"  he  wrote, 
1 '  have  the  appearance  of  a  labyrinth  of  groves  floating  on  the 
waters.  Their  extraordinary  position  gives  an  air  of  youth 
and  loveliness  to  the  whole  scene.  If  to  this  be  added  the 
undulations  of  the  river,  the  waving  of  the  verdure,  the  alter- 
nations of  light  and  shade  and  the  purity  of  the  atmosphere, 
some  idea  may  be  formed  of  the  pleasing  sensations  which  the 
traveler  experiences  on  beholding  a  scene  that  seems  to  have 
started  fresh  from  the  hands  of  the  Creator. ' ' 

In  sharp  contrast  was  the  sandy  plain  over  which  we  rode. 
On  this  grew  the  short,  stubby  buffalo-grass,  the  dust-colored 
sage-brush  and  cactus  in  rank  profusion.  Over  to  the  right, 
perhaps  a  mile  away,  a  long  range  of  foothills  ran  down  to  the 
horizon,  with  here  and  there  the  great  canons  through  which 
entrance  was  effected  to  the  upland  country,  each  canon  bear- 
ing a  historical  or  legendary  name. 

To  my  eyes  the  picture  was  as  beautiful  as  it  was  novel.  As 
far  as  one  could  see  there  was  no  sign  of  human  habitation. 
It  was  one  vast,  untenanted  waste,  with  the  touch  of  infinity 
the  ocean  wears. 

As  we  began  to  get  into  the  foothills  one  of  our  equestri- 
ennes narrowly  escaped  a  fall.  Her  horse  dropped  a  foot  into  a 
prairie-dog's  hole,  and  came  to  an  abrupt  stop.  The  foot  was 
extricated,  and  I  was  instructed  in  the  dangers  that  beset  the 
prairie  voyager  in  these  blind  traps  of  the  plain. 

The  trail  had  been  ascending  at  a  gentle  grade,  and  we  had 
a  slight  change  of  scene — desert  hill  instead  of  desert  plain. 
The  sand-hills  rose  in  tiers  before  us,  and  I  was  informed  that 


l6o  LAST"  OF  THE  GREAT   SCOUTS. 

they  were  formed  ages  ago  by  the  action  of  water.  What  was 
hard,  dry  ground  to  our  horses'  hoofs  was  once  the  bottom  of 
the  sea. 

I  was  much  interested  in  the  geology  of  my  environments; 
much  more  so  than  I  should  have  been  had  I  been  told  that 
those  strange,  weird  hills  were  the  haunt  of  the  red  man,  who 
was  on  the  war-path  and  looking  constantly  for  scalps.  But 
these  unpleasant  facts  were  not  touched  upon  by  the  officers, 
and  in  blissful  ignorance  we  pursued  the  tenor  of  our  way. 

We  were  obliged  to  ride  a  great  distance  before  we  sighted 
any  game,  and  after  twenty  miles  had  been  gone  over  my 
temporarily  forgotten  weariness  began  to  reassert  itself.  Dr. 
Powell  proposed  that  the  ladies  should  do  the  shooting,  but 
my  interest  in  the  hunt  had  waned.  It  had  been  several  years 
since  I  had  ridden  a  horse,  and  after  the  first  few  miles  I  was 
not  in  a  suitable  frame  of  mind  or  body  to  enjoy  the  most 
exciting  hunt. 

A  herd  of  buffaloes  finally  came  into  view  and  the  party  was 
instantly  alive.  One  old  bull  was  a  little  apart  from  the  others 
of  the  herd  and  was  singled  out  for  the  first  attack.  As  we 
drew  within  range  a  rifle  was  given  to  May,  with  explicit 
directions  as  to  its  handling.  As  has  been  previously  noted, 
the  buffalo  has  but  one  vulnerable  spot,  between  the  eyes,  and 
it  is  next  to  impossible  for  a  novice  to  make  a  fatal  shot.  May 
fired,  and  perhaps  her  shot  might  be  called  a  good  one,  for  the 
animal  was  struck.  But  it  was  only  wounded,  and  infuriated, 
and  dropping  its  shaggy  head,  it  rushed  toward  us.  The 
officers  fusilladed  the  mountain  of  flesh,  succeeding  only  in 
rousing  it  to  added  fury.  Another  rifle  was  handed  to  May, 
and  Dr.  Powell  directed  its  aim,  but,  terrified  by  the  near 
presence  of  the  charging  bull,  May  discharged  it  at  random. 

Although  this  is  strictly  a  narrative  of  facts,  exercising  the 
privilege  of  the  novelist,  we  leave  our  present  heroine  in  her 
perilous  position  and  return  for  a  space  to  the  fort. 

Will  returned  from  his  scouting  trip  shortly  after  the  de- 
parture of  the  hunting  party,  and  his  first  query  was  : 


LAST  OF   THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  l6l 

"Is  Nellie  here?" 

"  Come  and  gone,"  replied  his  wife,  and  she  informed  him 
of  the  manner  in  which  I  had  been  carried  off  on  the  long- 
talked-of  buffalo  hunt.  Whereupon  Will  gave  way  to  one  of 
his  rare  fits  of  passion.  The  scouting  trip  had  been  long  and 
arduous,  he  was  tired  and  hungry,  but  also  keenly  anxious  for 
our  safety.  He  knew  what  we  were  ignorant  of — that  should 
we  come  clear  of  the  not  insignificant  dangers  attendant 
upon  a  buffalo  hunt,  there  remained  the  possibility  of  capture 
by  Indians.  To  avoid  Scylla  was  to  likely  fall  into  Charyb- 
dis. 

"  I-must  go  after  them  at  once,"  said  he,  and  off  he  went, 
without  thought  of  rest  or  food.  He  did  take  time,  however, 
to  visit  the  officers'  quarters  and  pour  a  vial  of  wrath  upon  the 
bewildered  head  of  the  inferior  who  occupied  the  place  of  the 
absent  commandant. 

"Didn't  you  know,"  cried  Will,  "that  my  continued  ab- 
sence meant  danger  in  the  air?  Fine  idea,  to  let  a  party  of 
ladies  go  beyond  the  fort  on  such  a  foolhardy  expedition  be- 
fore I  had  assured  you  it  was  safe  to  do  so  !  Understand,  if 
any  harm  comes  to  my  sisters,  I'll  hold  the  government  respon- 
sible !" 

With  which  tremendous  threat  he  mounted  the  swiftest 
horse  in  camp  and  rode  away,  before  the  astonished  officer  had 
recovered  from  his  surprise. 

He  was  able  to  track  us  over  the  sand-hills  and  reached  us, 
in  accepted  hero  fashion,  in  the  very  nick  of  time.  The  reader 
will  recall  that  a  maddened  bull  buffalo  was  charging  on  May, 
unchecked  by  a  peppering  fire  from  the  guns  of  the  officers. 
All  hands  were  so  absorbed  by  the  intense  excitement  of  the 
moment  that  the  sound  of  approaching  hoof- beats  was  unnoted. 
But  I  heard,  from  behind  us,  the  crack  of  a  rifle,  and  saw  the 
buffalo  fall  dead  almost  at  our  feet. 

The  ill-humor  of  our  rescuer  dampened  the  ardor  of  the 
welcome  we  gave  him.  The  long  ride  on  an  empty  stomach 
had  not  smoothed  a  ripple  of  his  ruffled  temper,  and  we  were 


1 62  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

all  properly  lectured.  We  were  ordered  back  to  the  fort  at 
once,  and  the  command  was  of  such  a  nature  that  no  one 
thought  of  disputing  it.  The  only  question  was  whether  we 
could  make  the  fort  before  being  cut  off  by  Indians.  There 
was  no  time  to  be  wasted  even  in  cutting  meat  from  the  tongue 
of  the  fallen  buffalo.  Will  showed  us  the  shortest  cut  for 
home,  and  himself  zigzagged  ahead  of  us,  on  the  watch  for  a 
danger  signal. 

For  my  part,  I  was  so  worn  out  that  I  would  as  soon  be  cap- 
tured by  Indians,  if  they  would  agree  to  provide  me  with  a  wig- 
wam wherein  I  might  lie  down  and  rest,  but  no  Indians  ap- 
peared. Five  miles  from  the  fort  was  the  ranch  of  a  wealthy 
bachelor,  and  at  May's  request  a  halt  was*  here  called.  It  was 
thought  that  the  owner  of  the  ranch  might  take  pity  upon  my 
deplorable  condition  and  provide  some  sort  of  vehicle  to  convey 
the  ladies  the  remainder  of  the  journey. 

We  were  heartily  welcomed,  and  our  bachelor  host  made  us 
extremely  comfortable  in  his  cosy  apartments  while,  he  ordered 
supper  for  the  party.  Will  considered  that  we  were  within 
the  safety  zone,  so  he  continued  on  to  the  fort,  to  obtain  his 
postponed  rest,  and  after  supper  the  ladies  rode  to  the  fort  in 
a  carriage. 

The  next  day's  Omaha  paper  contained  an  account  of  the 
hunt  from  Dr.  Powell's  graphic  pen,  and  in  it  May  Cody  re- 
ceived all  the  glory  of  the  shot  that  laid  the  buffalo  low. 
Newspaper  men  are  usually  ready  to  sacrifice  exact  facts  to  an 
innate  sense  of  the  picturesque. 

At  this  time  the  fort  was  somewhat  concerned  over  numer- 
ous petty  crimes  among  the  civilians,  and  General  Emery,  now 
chief  in  authority  at  the  post,  requested  the  county  commis- 
sioners to  appoint  Will  a  justice  of  the  peace.  This  was  done, 
much  to  the  dismay  of  the  new  justice,  who,  as  he  phrased  it, 
' '  knew  no  more  of  law  than  a  mule  knows  of  singing. ' '  But 
he  was  compelled  to  bear  the  blushing  honors  thrust  upon  him, 
and  his  sign  was  posted  in  a  conspicuous  place  : 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  163 


WILLIAM  F.  CODY, 
JUSTICE  OF  THE  PEACE. 


Almost  the  first  thing  he  was  called  upon  to  do  in  his  new 
capacity  was  to  perform  a  wedding  ceremony.  Cold  sweat 
stood  upon  his  brow  as  he  implored  our  aid  in  this  desperate 
emergency.  The  big  law  book  with  which  he  had  been  equipped 
at  his  installation  was  ransacked  in  vain  for  the  needed  infor- 
mation. The  Bible  was  examined  more  diligently,  perhaps, 
than  it  had  ever  before  been  in  his  lifetime,  but  the  Good 
Book  was  as  unresponsive  as  the  legal  tome.  "  Remember 
your  own  wedding  ceremony, ' '  was  our  advice.  ' '  Follow  that 
as  nearly  as  possible. "  But  he  shook  his  head  despondently. 
The  cool-headed  scout  and  Indian  fighter  was  dismayed,  and 
the  dignity  of  the  law  trembled  in  the  balance. 

To  put  an  edge  on  the  crisis,  nearly  the  entire  fort  attended 
the  wedding.  All  is  well,  said  we,  as  we  watched  the  justice 
take  his  place  before  the  bridal  pair  with  not  a  sign  of  trepi- 
dation. At  the  outset  his  conducting  of  the  ceremony  was  ir- 
reproachable, and  we  were  secretly  congratulating  ourselves 
upon  his  success,  when  our  ears  were  startled  by  the  announce- 
ment : 

' '  Whom  God  and  Buffalo  Bill  hath  joined  together  let  no 
man  put  asunder. ' ' 

So  far  as  I  am  informed,  no  man  has  attempted  it. 

Before  May  returned  home  Will  became  the  very  proud 
father  of  a  son,  making  three  olive  branches,  a  second  daugh- 
ter having  been  named  Orra.  The  first  boy  of  the  family  was 
the  object  of  the  undivided  interest  of  the  post  for  a  time,  and 
names  by  the  dozen  were  suggested.  Major  North  offered  Kit 
Carson  as  an  appropriate  name  for  the  son  of  a  great  scout  and 
buffalo  hunter,  and  this  was  finally  settled  on. 

My  first  touch  of  real  anxiety  came  with  an  order  to  Will  to 


164  tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

report  at  headquarters  for  assignment  to  duty.  The  country 
was  alive  with  Indians,  the  officer  in  command  informed  him, 
and  this  intelligence  filled  me  with  dread.  My  sister-in-law 
had  grown  accustomed  to  her  husband's  excursions  into  danger 
land,  and  accepted  such  sallies  as  incidents  of  his  position. 
Later,  I  too  learned  this  stoical  philosophy,  but  at  first  my 
anxiety  was  so  keen  that  Will  laughed  at  me. 

"Don't  worry,"  said  he,  "the  Indians  won't  visit  the  fort 
to-night.  There's  no  danger  of  them  scalping  you." 

"But,"  said  I,  "it  is  for  you,  not  for  myself,  that  I  am 
afraid.  It  is  horrible  to  think  of  you  going  out  alone  among 
those  foothills,  which  swarm  with  Indians." 

The  fort  was  on  the  prairie,  but  the  distant  foothills  stretched 
away  interminably,  and  these  furnished  favorite  lurking-places 
for  the  redskins.  Will  drew  me  to  a  window  and  pointed  out 
the  third  tier  of  hills,  some  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  away. 

"I  would  advise  you,"  said  he,  "to  go  to  bed  and  sleep, 
but  if  you  insist  on  keeping  awake  and  worrying,  I  will  kindle 
a  blaze  on  top  of  that  hill  at  midnight.  Watch  closely.  I 
can  send  up  only  one  flash,  for  there  will  be  Indian  eyes  un- 
closed as  well  as  yours. ' ' 

One  may  imagine  with  what  a  beating  heart  I  stared  into 
the  darkness  when  the  hour  of  twelve  drew  on.  The  night 
was  a  veil  that  hid  a  thousand  terrors,  but  a  gauzy  veil,  to  my 
excited  fanc}r,  behind  which  passed  a  host  of  shadowy  horse- 
men with  uptossing  lances.  How  could  a  man  ride  alone  into 
such  a  gloomy,  terror-haunted  domain  ?  The  knights  of  old, 
who  sallied  forth  in  search  of  dismal  ogres  and  noxious 
dragons,  were  not  of  stouter  heart,  and  they  breasted  only 
fancied  perils. 

Twelve  o'clock!  The  night  had  a  thousand  eyes,  but  they 
did  not  pierce  the  darkness  of  the  foothills. 

Ah!  A  thin  ribbon  of  light  curled  upward  for  an  instant, 
then  vanished!  Will  was  safe  thus  far.  But  there  were  many 
hours — and  the  darkest — before  the  dawn,  and  I  carried  to  my 
bed  the  larger  share  of  my  forebodings. 


tAST  OF  THE  GREAT   SCOUTS.  165 

Next  day  the  scout  came  home  to  report  the  exact  location 
of  the  hostile  Sioux.  The  troops,  ready  for  instant  action, 
were  hurled  against  them,  and  the  Indians  were  thoroughly 
thrashed.  A  large  number  of  chiefs  were  captured,  among 
them  "Red  Shirt,"  an  interesting  redskin,  who  afterward  trav- 
eled with  the  "Wild  West  Show." 

Captive  chiefs  were  always  esteemed  of  great  interest  by  the 
ladies  of  the  fort.  To  me  the  braves  taken  in  the  last  raid 
were  remarkable  mainly  for  economy  of  apparel  and  sulkiness 
of  demeanor. 

This  same  fall  the  fort  was  visited  by  a  gentleman  intro- 
duced as  Colonel  Judson,  though  the  public  knows  him  better 
as  ' '  Ned  Buntline, ' '  the  story-writer.  He  desired  to  accom- 
pany the  scouts  on  a  certain  proposed  trip,  and  Major  Brown 
informed  Will  that  the  ulterior  motive  of  the  author  was  to 
project  Buffalo  Bill  into  a  novel  as  hero. 

"Now,  I'd  look  pretty  in  a  novel,  wouldn't  I?"  said  Will, 
sarcastically  and  blushingly. 

"Yes,  I  think  you  would,"  returned  the  major,  eying  the 
other's  splendid  proportions  critically. 

Whereupon  the  scout  blushed  again  and  doffed  his  sombrero 
in  acknowledgment  of  the  compliment,  for, 

"  'Tis  pleasant,  sure,  to  see  one's  name  in  print; 
A  book's  a  book,  although  there's  nothing  in't." 

A  retired  naval  officer,  Ned  Buntline  wore  a  black  undress 
military  suit.  His  face  was  bronzed  and  rugged,  determined 
yet  kindly ;  he  walked  with  a  slight  limp,  and  carried  a  cane. 
He  shook  Will's  hand  cordially  when  they  were  introduced, 
and  expressed  great  pleasure  in  the  meeting.  This  was  the 
genesis  of  a  friendship  destined  to  work  great  changes  in 
Buffalo  Bill's  career. 

During  the  scouting  expedition  that  followed  the  party 
chanced  upon  an  enormous  bone,  which  the  surgeon  pro- 
nounced the  femur  of  a  human  body.  Will  understood  the 
Indian  tongues  well  enough  to  be  in  part  possession  of  their 
traditions,  and  he  related  the  Sioux  legend  of  the  flood. 


1 66  tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

It  was  taught  by  the  wise  men  of  this  tribe  that  the  earth 
was  originally  peopled  by  giants,  who  were  fully  three  times 
the  size  of  modern  men.  They  were  so  swift  and  powerful 
that  they  could  run  alongside  a  buffalo,  take  the  animal 
under  one  arm,  and  tear  off  a  leg  and  eat  it  as  they  ran.  So 
vainglorious  were  they  because  of  their  own  size  and  strength 
that  they  denied  the  existence  of  a  Creator.  When  it  light- 
ened they  proclaimed  their  superiority  to  the  lightning ;  when 
it  thundered  they  laughed. 

This  displeased  the  Great  Spirit,  and  to  rebuke  their  arro- 
gance he  sent  a  great  rain  upon  the  earth.  The  valleys  filled 
with  water  and  the  giants  retreated  to  the  hills.  The  water 
crept  up  the  hills  and  the  giants  sought  safety  on  the  highest 
mountains.  Still  the  rain  continued,  the  waters  rose,  and  the 
giants,  having  no  other  refuge,  were  drowned. 

The  Great  Spirit  profited  by  his  former  mistake.  When  the 
waters  subsided  he  made  a  new  race  of  men,  but  he  made  them 
smaller  and  less  strong. 

This  tradition  has  been  handed  down  from  Sioux  father  to 
Sioux  son  since  earliest  ages.  It  shows,  at  least,  as  the 
legends  of  all  the  races  do,  that  the  story  of  the  Deluge  is  his- 
tory common  to  all  the  world. 

Another  interesting  Indian  tradition  bears  evidence  of  a 
later  origin.  The  Great  Spirit,  they  say,  once  formed  a  man 
of  clay,  and  he  was  placed  in  the  furnace  to  bake,  but  he  was 
subjected  to  the  heat  too  long  a  time  and  came  out  burnt.  Of 
him  came  the  negro  race.  At  another  trial  the  Great  Spirit 
feared  the  second  clay  man  might  also  burn,  and  he  was  not 
left  in  the  furnace  long  enough.  Of  him  came  the  pale-face 
man.  The  Great  Spirit  was  now  in  a  position  to  do  perfect 
work,  and  the  third  clay  man  was  left  in  the  furnace  neither 
too  long  nor  too  short  a  time ;  he  emerged  a  masterpiece,  the 
ne plus  ultra  of  creation — the  noble  red  man, 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


ANOTHER  MARRIAGE — A  LODGE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS — AN 
INDIAN  RAID  AND  THE  DEATH  OF  LITTLE  JOHN — FRON- 
TIER BANKING — A  MIRAGE — SMOKED  OUT — GENERAL 

DUNCAN'S   EXPEDITION  —  DISTINGUISHED    VISITORS  —  A 

VISIT  TO  SPOTTED  TAIL. 

I/THOUGH  the  glory  of  killing 
the  buffalo  on  our  hunt  was 
accredited  to  sister  May,  to  me 
the  episode  proved  of  much 
more  moment.  In  the  spring  of 
'71  I  was  married  to  Mr.  Jes- 
ter, the  bachelor  ranchman  at 
whose  place  we  had  tarried  on 
our  hurried  return  to  the  fort. 
His  house  had  a  rough  exterior, 
but  was  substantial  and  com- 
modious, and  before  I  entered 
it,  a  bride,  it  was  refitted  in  a 
style  almost  luxurious.  I  re- 
turned to  lyeavenworth  to  prepare  for  the  wedding,  which  took 
place  at  the  home  of  an  old  friend,  Thomas  Plowman,  his 
daughter  Emma  having  been  my  girlhood's  chum. 

In  our  home  near  McPherson  we  were  five  miles  ' '  in  the 
country."  Nature  in  primitive  wildness  encompassed  us,  but 
life' s  song  never  ran  into  a  monotone.  The  prairie  is  never  dull 
when  one  watches  it  from  day  to  day  for  signs  of  Indians.  Yet 
we  were  not  especially  concerned,  as  we  were  near  enough  to 
the  fort  to  reach  it  on  short  notice,  and  besides  our  home  there 
was  another  house  where  the  ranchmen  lived.  With  these  I  had 


1 68  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

little  to  do.  My  especial  factotum  was  a  negro  boy,  whose 
chief  duty  was  to  saddle  my  horse  and  bring  it  to  the  door, 
attend  me  upon  my  rides,  and  minister  to  my  comfort  gener- 
ally. Poor  little  chap  !  He  was  one  of  the  first  of  the  In- 
dians' victims. 

Early  one  morning  John,  as  he  was  called,  was  sent  out 
alone  to  look  after  the  cattle.  During  breakfast  the  clatter 
of  hoofs  was  heard,  and  Will  rode  up  to  inform  us  that  the 
Indians  were  on  the  war-path  and  massed  in  force  just  beyond 
our  ranch.  Back  of  Will  were  the  troops,  and  we  were  ad- 
vised to  ride  at  once  to  the  fort.  Hastily  packing  a  few  valu- 
ables, we  took  refuge  at  McPherson,  and  remained  there  until 
the  troops  returned  with  the  news  that  all  danger  was  over. 

Upon  our  return  to  the  ranch  we  found  that  the  cattle  had 
been  driven  away,  and  poor  little  John  was  picked  up  dead  on 
the  skirts  of  the  foothills.  The  redskins  had  apparently  started 
to  scalp  him,  but  had  desisted.  Perhaps  they  thought  his 
wool  would  not  make  a  desirable  trophy,  perhaps  they  were 
frightened  away.  At  all  events  the  poor  child' s  scalp  was  left 
to  him,  though  the  mark  of  the  knife  was  plain. 

Shortly  after  this  episode  some  capitalists  from  the  East 
visited  my  husband.  One  of  them,  Mr.  Bent,  owned  a  large 
share  in  the  cattle-ranches.  He  desired  to  visit  this  ranch, 
and  the  whole  party  planned  a  hunt  at  the  same  time.  As 
there  were  no  banking  facilities  on  the  frontier,  drafts  or 
bills  of  exchange  would  have  been  of  no  use,  so  the  money 
designed  for  Western  investment  had  been  brought  along  in 
cash.  To  carry  this  on  the  proposed  trip  was  too  great  a  risk, 
and  I  was  asked  banteringly  to  act  as  banker.  I  consented 
readily,  but  imagine  my  perturbation  when  twenty-five  thou- 
sand dollars  in  banknotes  were  counted  out  and  left  in  my 
care.  I  had  never  had  the  responsibility  of  so  large  a  sum  of 
money  before,  and  compared  to  me,  the  man  with  the  elephant 
on  his  hands  had  a  tranquil  time  of  it.  After  considering 
various  methods  for  secreting  the  money,  I  decided  for  the 
hair  mattress  on  my  bed.  This  I  ripped  open,  inserted  the 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  169 

envelope  containing  the  banknotes,  and  sewed  up  the  slit.  No 
one  was  knowing  to  my  trust,  and  I  regarded  it  as  safe- 
guarded. 

A  few  mornings  later  I  ordered  my  pony  and  rode  away  to 
visit  my  nearest  neighbor,  a  Mrs.  Erickson,  purposing  later  to 
ride  to  the  fort  and  spend  the  day  with  I,ou,  my  sister-in-law. 
When  I  reached  Mrs.  Krickson' s  house  that  good  woman  came 
out  in  great  excitement  to  greet  me. 

"  You  must  come  right  in,  Mrs.  Jester  !  "  said  she.  "  The 
foothills  are  filled  with  Indians  on  the  war-path. ' ' 

She  handed  me  her  field-glasses  and  directed  my  gaze  to  the 
trail  below  our  ranch,  over  which  buffaloes,  cattle  and  Indians 
passed  down  to  the  Platte.  I  could  plainly  see  the  warriors 
tramping  along  Indian-file,  their  head-feathers  waving  in  the 
breeze  and  their  blankets  flapping  about  them  as  they  walked. 
Instantly  the  thought  of  the  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  en- 
trusted to  my  care  flashed  across  my  mind. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Erickson,"  I  exclaimed,  "  I  must  return  to  the 
ranch  immediately  ! ' ' 

"You  must  not  do  so,  Mrs.  Jester.  It's  as  much  as  your 
life  is  worth  to  attempt  it,"  said  she. 

But  I  thought  only  of  the  money,  and  notwithstanding 
warning  and  entreaty,  mounted  my  horse  and  flew  back  on  the 
homeward  path,  not  even  daring  to  look  once  toward  the  foot- 
hills. When  I  reached  the  house  I  called  to  the  overseer  : 

"The  Indians  are  on  the  war-path,  and  the  foothills  are 
full  of  them  !  Have  two  or  three  men  ready  to  escort  me  to 
the  fort  by  the  time  I  have  my  valise  packed." 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Jester,"  was  the  reply,  "  there  are  no  Indians 
insight." 

"  But  there  are,"  said  I.  "I  saw  them  as  plainly  as  I  see 
you,  and  the  Ericksons  saw  them,  too." 

"  You  have  been  the  victim  of  a  mirage,"  said  the  overseer. 
"  Look  !  there  are  no  Indians  now  in  view." 

I  scanned  the  foothills  closely,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  a 
warrior.  With  my  field-glasses  I  searched  the  entire  rim  of 


I/O  .    LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

the  horizon;  it  was  tranquillity  itself.  I  experienced  a  great 
relief,  nevertheless,  my  nerves  were  so  shaken  that  I  could  not 
remain  at  home  ;  so  I  packed  a  valise,  taking  along  the  pack- 
age of  banknotes,  and  visited  another  neighbor,  a  Mrs.  Mc- 
Donald, a  dear  friend  of  many  years'  standing,  who  lived  nearer 
the  fort. 

This  excellent  woman  was  an  old  resident  of  the  frontier. 
After  she  had  heard  my  story  she  related  some  of  her  own  In- 
dian experiences.  When  she  first  settled  in  her  present  home 
there  was  no  fort  to  which  she  could  flee  from  Indian  moles- 
tation, and  she  was  often  compelled  to  rely  upon  her  wits  to 
extricate  her  from  dangerous  situations.  The  story  that 
especially  impressed  me  was  the  following : 

"  One  evening  when  I  was  alone,"  said  Mrs.  McDonald,  "  I 
became  conscious  that  eyes  were  peering  at  rne  from  the  dark- 
ness outside  my  window.  Flight  was  impossible,  and  my  hus- 
band would  not  likely  reach  home  for  an  hour  or  more.  What 
should  I  do  ?  A  happy  thought  came  to  me.  You  know,  per- 
haps, that  Indians,  for  some  reason,  have  a  strange  fear  of  a 
drunken  woman,  and  will  not  molest  one.  I  took  from  a  closet 
a  bottle  filled  with  a  dark- colored  liquid,  poured  out  a  glassful 
and  drank  it.  In  a  few  minutes  I  repeated  the  dose,  and  then 
seemingly  it  began  to  take  effect.  I  would  try  to  walk  across 
the  room,  staggering  and  nearly  falling.  I  became  uproar- 
iously 'happy.'  I  flung  my  arms  above  my  head,  lurched 
from  side  to  side,  sang  a  maudlin  song  and  laughed  loudly  and 
foolishly.  The  stratagem  succeeded.  One  by  one  the  shadowy 
faces  at  the  window  disappeared,  and  by  the  time  my  husband 
and  the  men  returned  there  was  not  an  Indian  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. I  became  sober  immediately.  Molasses  and  water  is 
not  a  very  intoxicating  beverage." 

Since  writing  the  above  the  sad  news  has  reached  me  of  Mrs. 
McDonald's  death,  which  occurred  at  her  home  in  North 
Platte,  Nebraska. 

I  plucked  up  courage  to  return  to  the  ranch  that  evening, 
and  shortly  afterward  the  hunting  party  rode  up.  When  I  re- 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  171 

lated  the  story  of  my  fright  Mr.  Bent  complimented  me  upon 
what  he  was  pleased  to  call  my  courage. 

"You  are  your  brother's  own  sister,"  said  he.  "We'll 
make  you  banker  again." 

"Thank  you,  but  I  do  not  believe  you  will,"  said  I.  "I 
have  had  all  the  experience  I  wish  for  in  the  banking  business 
in  this  Indian  country." 

Upon  another  occasion  Indians  were  approaching  the  fort 
from  the  farther  side,  but  as  we  were  not  regarded  as  in  dan- 
ger, no  warning  was  sent  to  us.  The  troops  sallied  out  after 
the  redskins,  and  the  cunning  warriors  described  a  circle- 
To  hide  their  trail  they  set  fire  to  the  prairie  and  the  hills  about 
us  were  soon  ablaze.  The  flames  spread  swiftly  and  the  smoke 
rolled  upon  us  in  suffocating  volume.  We  retreated  to  the 
river,  and  managed  to  exist  by  dashing  water  upon  our  faces. 
Here  we  were  found  by  soldiers  sent  from  the  fort  to  warn  set- 
tlers of  their  peril,  and  at  their  suggestion  we  returned  to  the 
ranch,  saddled  horses,  and  rode  through  the  dense  smoke  five 
miles  to  the  fort.  It  was  the  most  unpleasant  ride  of  my 
life. 

In  the  preceding  chapter  mention  was  made  of  the  finding  of 
a  remarkable  bone.  It  became  famous,  and  in  the  summer  of 
'71,  Professor  Marsh  of  Yale  College  brought  out  a  party  of 
students  to  search  for  fossils.  They  found  a  number,  but 
were  not  rewarded  by  anything  the  most  credulous  could  tor- 
ture into  a  human  relic. 

This  summer  also  witnessed  an  Indian  campaign  somewhat 
out  of  the  common  in  several  of  its  details.  More  than  one 
volume  would  be  required  to  record  all  the  adventures  Scout 
Cody  had  with  the  Children  of  the  Plains,  most  of  which  had 
so  many  points  in  common  that  it  is  necessary  to  touch  upon 
only  those  containing  incidents  out  of  the  ordinary. 

An  expedition  under  command  of  General  Duncan  was  fitted 
out  for  the  Republican  River  country.  Duncan  was  a  jolly 
officer  and  a  born  fighter.  His  brother  officers  had  a  story  that 
once  on  a  time  he  had  been  shot  in  the  head  by  a  cannon  ball, 


172  LAST   OF   THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

and  that  while  he  was  not  hurt  a  particle,  the  ball  glanced  off 
and  killed  one  of  the  toughest  mules  in  the  army. 

Perhaps  it  was  because  the  Pawnees  spoke  so  little  English, 
and  spoke  that  little  so  badly,  that  General  Duncan  insisted 
upon  their  repeating  the  English  call,  which  would  be  some- 
thing like  this  :  "Post  Number  One.  Nine  o'clock.  All's 
well."  The  Pawnee  effort  to  obey  was  so  ludicrous  and  pro- 
vocative of  such  profanity  (which  they  could  express  passing 
well)  that  the  order  was  countermanded. 

One  afternoon  Major  North  and  Will  rode  ahead  of  the  com- 
mand to  select  a  site  for  the  night's  camp.  They  ran  into  a 
band  of  some  fifty  Indians,  and  were  obliged  to  take  the  back 
track  as  fast  as  their  horses  could  travel.  Will's  whip  was 
shot  from  his  hand  and  a  hole  put  through  his  hat.  As  they 
sighted  the  advance  guard  of  the  command  Major  North  rode 
around  in  a  circle — a  signal  to  the  Pawnees  that  hostiles  were 
near.  Instantly  the  Pawnees  broke  ranks  and  dashed  pell-mell 
to  the  relief  of  their  white  chief.  The  hostiles  now  took  a 
turn  at  retreating  and  kept  it  up  for  several  miles. 

The  troops  took  up  the  trail  on  the  following  day  and  a  stern 
chase  set  in.  In  passing  through  a  deserted  camp  the  troops 
found  an  aged  squaw,  who  had  been  left  to  die.  The  soldiers 
built  a  lodge  for  her,  and  she  was  provided  with  sufficient 
rations  to  last  her  until  she  reached  the  Indian  heaven,  the 
happy  hunting  grounds.  She  was  in  no  haste,  however,  to 
get  to  her  destination,  and  on  their  return  the  troops  took  her 
to  the  fort  with  them.  Later  she  was  sent  to  the  Spotted  Tail 
Agency. 

In  September  of  '71,  General  Sheridan  and  a  party  of  friends 
arrived  at  the  post  for  a  grand  hunt.  Between  him  and  Will 
existed  a  warm  friendship,  which  continued  to  the  close  of  the 
general's  life.  Great  preparations  were  made  for  the  hunt. 
General  Emery,  commander  of  the  fort,  sent  a  troop  of  cavalry 
to  meet  the  distinguished  visitors  at  the  station  and  escort  them 
to  the  fort.  Besides  General  Sheridan,  there  were  in  the  party 
Leonard  and  Lawrence  Jerome,  Carroll  Livingstone,  James 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

Gordoii  Bennett,  J.  G.  Heckscher,  General  Fitzhugh,  Schuyler 
Crosby,  Dr.  Asch  and  other  well-known  men.  When  they 
reached  the  post  they  found  the  regiment  drawn  up  on  dress 
parade  ;  the  band  struck  up  a  martial  air,  the  cavalry  were  re- 
viewed by  General  Sheridan,  and  the  formalities  of  the  occasion 
were  regarded  as  over. 

It  was  Sheridan's  request  that  Will  should  act  as  guide  and 
scout  for  the  hunting  party.  One  hundred  troopers  under 
Major  Brown  were  detailed  as  escort,  and  the  commissary  de- 
partment fairly  bulged.  Several  ambulances  were  also  taken 
along,  for  the  comfort  of  those  that  might  weary  of  the  saddle. 

Game  was  abundant  and  rare  sport  was  had.  Buffalo,  elk 
and  deer  were  everywhere,  and  to  those  of  the  party  who  were 
new  to  Western  life  the  prairie-dog  villages  were  objects  of 
much  interest.  These  villages  are  often  of  great  extent. 
They  are  made  up  of  countless  burrows,  and  so  honeycombed 
is  the  country  infested  by  the  little  animals  that  travel  after 
nightfall  is  perilous  for  horses.  The  dirt  is  heaped  around  the 
entrance  to  the  burrows  a  foot  high,  and  here  the  prairie  dogs, 
who  are  sociability  itself,  sit  on  their  hind  legs  and  gossip  with 
one  another.  Owls  and  rattlesnakes  share  the  underground 
homes  with  the  rightful  owners,  and  all  get  along  together 
famously. 

When  the  hunting  party  returned  to  McPherson  its  mem- 
bers voted  Will  a  veritable  Nimrod — a  mighty  hunter,  and  he 
was  abundantly  thanked  for  his  masterly  guidance  of  the  ex- 
pedition . 

That  winter  a  still  more  distinguished  party  visited  the  post. 
This  was  nothing  less  than  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis  and  his 
friends.  As  many  of  my  readers  will  recall,  the  nobleman's 
visit  aroused  much  enthusiasm  in  this  country.  The  East  had 
wined  and  dined  him  to  satiety,  but  wining  and  dining  are 
common  to  all  nations,  and  the  Grand  Duke  desired  to  see  the 
wild  life  of  America — the  Indian  in  his  tepee  and  the  prairie 
monarch  in  his  domain,  as  well  as  the  hardy  frontiersman,  who 
feared  neither  savage  warrior  nor  savage  beast. 


174  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

The  Grand  Duke  had  hunted  big  game  in  Eastern  lands, 
and  he  was  a  capital  shot.  General  Sheridan  engineered  this 
expedition  also,  and,  as  on  the  previous  occasion,  he  relied 
upon  Will  to  make  it  a  success.  The  latter  received  word  to 
select  a  good  camp  on  Red  Willow  Creek,  where  game  was 
plentiful,  and  to  make  all  needed  arrangements  for  the  comfort 
and  entertainment  of  the  noble  party.  A  special  feature  sug- 
gested by  Sheridan  for  the  amusement  and  instruction  of  the 
Continental  guests  was  an  Indian  war  dance  and  Indian 
buffalo  hunt.  To  procure  this  entertainment  it  was  necessary 
to  visit  Spotted  Tail,  Chief  of  the  Sioux,  and  persuade  him  to 
bring  over  a  hundred  warriors.  At  this  time  there  was  peace 
between  the  Sioux  and  the  government,  and  the  dance  idea 
was  feasible  ;  nevertheless,  a  visit  to  the  Sioux  camp  was  not 
without  its  dangers.  Spotted  Tail  himself  was  seemingly  sin- 
cere in  a  desire  to  observe  the  terms  of  the  ostensible  peace 
between  his  people  and  the  authorities,  but  many  of  the  other 
Indians  would  rather  have  had  the  scalp  of  the  Long-haired 
Chief  than  a  century  of  peace. 

Will  so  timed  his  trip  as  to  reach  the  Indian  camp  at  dusk, 
and  hitching  his  horse  in  the  timber,  he  wrapped  his  blanket 
closely  about  him,  so  that  in  the  gathering  darkness  he  might 
easily  pass  for  a  warrior.  Thus  invested  he  entered  the 
village,  and  proceeded  to  the  lodge  of  Spotted  Tail. 

The  conference  with  the  distinguished  redskin  was  made 
smooth  sailing  by  Agent  Todd  Randall,  who  happened  to  be 
on  hand,  and  who  acted  as  interpreter.  The  old  chief  felt 
honored  by  the  invitation  extended  to  him,  and  readily  prom- 
ised that  in  ' '  ten  sleeps' '  from  that  night  he,  with  a  hundred 
warriors,  would  be  present  at  the  white  man's  camp,  which 
was  to  be  pitched  at  the  point  where  the  government  trail 
crossed  Red  Willow  Creek. 

As  Spotted  Tail  did  not  repose  a  great  amount  of  confidence 
in  his  high-spirited  young  men,  he  kept  Will  in  his  own  lodge 
through  the  night.  In  the  morning  the  chief  assembled  the 
camp,  and  presenting  his  guest,  asked  if  his  warriors  knew  him. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  175 

"It  is  Pa-has-ka,  the  Long-haired  Chief  !  "  they  answered. 

Whereupon  Spotted  Tail  informed  them  that  he  had  eaten 
bread  with  the  Long-haired  Chief,  thus  establishing  a  bond  of 
friendship,  against  violating  which  the  warriors  were  properly 
warned. 

After  that  Will  was  entirely  at  his  ease,  although  there 
were  many  sullen  faces  about  him.  They  had  long  yearned 
for  his  scalp,  and  it  was  slightly  irritating  to  find  it  so  near  and 
yet  so  far. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


THE  HUNT  OF  THE  GRAND  DUKE  ALEXIS — A  RIDE  TO  BE 
REMEMBERED — JOURNEY  TO  THE  EAST — A  CALL  FOR  A 
DRAMATIC  HERO — SOCIAL  OBLIGATIONS — WILL  PLAYS  LU- 
CULUJS,  AND  IS  STAGGERED  BY  THE  COST  THEREOF — A 
VISIT  TO  PENNSYLVANIA  RELATIVES. 

-  SPECIAL  train  brought  the 
Grand  Duke  Alexis  and  party 
to  North  Platte  on  January  12, 
1872.  Will  was  presented  to 
the  illustrious  visitor  by  Gen- 
eral Sheridan  and  was  much  in- 
terested in  him.  He  was  also 
pleased  to  note  that  General 
Custer  made  one  of  the  party. 
Will  had  made  all  the  ar- 
rangements and  had  everything 
complete  when  the  train  pulled 
in.  As  soon  as  the  Grand 
Duke  and  party  had  breakfasted  they  filed  out  to  get  their 
horses  or  to  find  seats  in  the  ambulances.  All  who  were 
mounted  were  arranged  according  to  rank.  Will  had  sent  one 
of  his  guides  ahead,  while  he  was  to  remain  behind  to  see  that 
nothing  was  left  undone.  Just  as  they  were  to  start  the  con- 
ductor of  the  Grand  Duke's  train  came  up  to  Will  and  said 
that  Mr.  Thompson  had  not  received  a  horse.  ' '  What  Thomp- 
son? "  asked  Will.  "  Why,  Mr.  Frank  Thompson,  who  has 
charge  of  the  Grand  Duke' s  train. ' '  Will  looked  over  the  list 
of  names  sent  him  by  General  Sheridan  of  those  who  would 
require  saddle  horses  but  failed  to  find  that  of  Mr.  Thompson. 
176 


LAST  OK  THE    GREAT  SCOUTS.  177 

However,  he  did  not  wish  to  have  Mr.  Thompson  or  anyone 
else  left  out.  He  had  following  him,  as  he  always  did,  his 
celebrated  war  horse,  "  Buckskin  Joe."  This  horse  was  not 
a  very  prepossessing  "insect."  He  was  buckskin  in  color 
and  rather  a  sorry-looking  animal,  but  he  was  known  all  over 
the  frontier  as  the  greatest  long-distance  and  best  buffalo  horse 
living.  Will  had  never  allowed  anyone  but  himself  to  ride 
this  horse,  but  as  he  had  no  other  there  at  the  time,  he  got  a 
saddle  and  bridle,  had  it  put  on  old  Buckskin  Joe  and  told  Mr. 
Thompson  he  could  ride  him  until  he  got  where  he  could  get 
him  another.  This  horse  looked  so  different  from  the  beauti- 
ful animals  the  rest  of  the  party  were  supplied  with  that  Mr. 
Thompson  thought  it  rather  discourteous  to  mount  him  in  such 
fashion.  However,  he  got  on  and  Will  told  him  to  follow  up, 
as  he  wanted  to  go  ahead  to  where  the  general  was.  As  Mr. 
Thompson  rode  past  the  wagons  and  ambulances  he  noticed 
the  teamsters  pointing  at  him,  and  thinking  the  men  were 
guying  him  rode  up  to  one  of  them  and  said  :  "  Am  I  not  rid- 
ing this  horse  all  right  ?  "  Mr.  Thompson  felt  some  personal 
pride  in  his  horsemanship,  as  he  was  a  Pennsylvania  fox 
hunter. 

The  driver  replied  :  "  Yes,  sir,  you  ride  all  right." 
"Well,   then,"   said    Thompson,   "it  must  be  this  horse 
you  are  guying. ' ' 
The  teamster  replied  : 

"  Guying  that  horse  ?     Not  in  a  thousand  years  !  " 
"  Well,  then,  why  am  I  such  a  conspicuous  object?  " 
"  Why,  sir,  are  you  not  the  king?  " 
"  The  king  ?     Why  did  you  take  me  for  the  king?  " 
"Because  you  are  riding  that  horse.     I  guess  you  don't 
know  what  horse  you  are  riding,  do  you  ?     Nobody  gets  to 
ride  that  horse  but  Buffalo  Bill.     So  when  we  all  saw  you  rid- 
ing him  we  supposed  that  of  course  you  were  the  king,  for  that 
horse,  sir,  is  Buckskin  Joe." 

Thompson  had  heard  General  Sheridan  telling  about  Buck- 
skin Joe  on  the  way  out,  and  how  Buffalo  Bill  had  once  run 


178  LAST   OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

him  eighty  miles  when  the  Indians  were  after  him.  Thomp- 
son told  Will  afterwards  that  he  grew  about  four  feet  when  he 
found  out  that  he  was  riding  that  most  celebrated  horse  of  the 
plains.  He  at  once  galloped  ahead  to  overtake  Will  and  thank 
him  most  heartily  for  allowing  him  the  honor  of  such  a  mount. 
Will  told  him  that  he  was  going  to  let  the  Grand  Duke  kill  his 
first  buffalo  on  Buckskin  Joe.  "Well,"  replied  Thompson, 
"  I  want  to  ask  one  favor  of  you.  Let  me  also  kill  a  buffalo 
on  this  horse."  Will  replied  that  nothing  would  afford  him 
greater  pleasure.  Buckskin  Joe  was  covered  with  glory  on 
this  memorable  hunt,  as  both  the  Grand  Duke  of  Russia  and 
Mr.  Frank  Thompson,  now  president  of  the  Pennsylvania 
Railroad,  killed  their  first  buffalo  mounted  on  his  back,  and 
my  brother  ascribes  to  old  Joe  the  acquisition  of  Mr.  Frank 
Thompson's  name  to  his  list  of  life  friendships.  This  hunt 
was  an  unqualified  success,  nothing  occurring  to  mar  one  day 
of  it. 

Spotted  Tail  was  true  to  his  promise.  He  and  his  hundred 
braves  were  on  hand,  shining  in  the  full  glory  of  war  paint 
and  feathers,  and  the  war  dance  they  performed  was  of  extra- 
ordinary interest  to  the  Grand  Duke  and  his  friends.  The  out- 
landish contortions  and  grimaces  of  the  Indians,  their  leaps  and 
crouchings,  their  fiendish  yells  and  whoops,  made  up  a  bar- 
baric jangle  of  picture  and  sound  not  soon  to  be  forgotten. 
To  the  European  visitors  the  scene  was  picturesque  rather  than 
ghastly,  but  it  was  not  a  pleasing  spectacle  to  the  old  Indian 
fighters  looking  on.  There  were  too  many  suggestions  of  blood- 
shed and  massacre  in  the  past,  and  of  bloodshed  and  massacre 
yet  to  come. 

The  Indian  buffalo  hunt  followed  the  Terpsichorean  revelry, 
and  all  could  enjoy  the  skill  and  strength  displayed  by  the  red 
huntsmen.  One  warrior,  Two- Lance  by  name,  performed  a 
feat  that  no  other  living  Indian  could  do  ;  he  sent  an  arrow 
entirely  through  the  body  of  a  bull  running  at  full  speed. 

General  Sheridan  desired  that  the  Grand  Duke  should  carry 
away  with  him  a  knowledge  of  every  phase  of  life  on  the 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  179 

frontier,  and  when  the  visitors  were  ready  to  drive  to  the  rail- 
road station,  Will  was  requested  to  illustrate,  for  their  edifica- 
tion, the  manner  in  which  a  stage-coach  and  six  was  driven 
over  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

Will  was  delighted  at  the  idea  ;  so  was  Alexis  at  the  outset, 
as  he  had  little  idea  of  what  was  in  store  for  him.  The  Grand 
Duke  and  the  general  were  seated  in  a  closed  carriage  drawn 
by  six  horses,  and  were  cautioned  to  fasten  their  hats  securely 
on  their  heads,  and  to  hang  on  to  the  carriage  ;  then  Will 
climbed  to  the  driver's  seat. 

"  Just  imagine,"  said  he  to  his  passengers,  "  that  fifty  In- 
dians are  after  us. ' '  And  off  went  the  horses  with  a  jump  that 
nearly  spilled  the  occupants  of  the  coach  into  the  road. 

The  three  miles  to  the  station  were  covered  in  just  ten 
minutes,  and  the  Grand  Duke  had  the  ride  of  his  life.  The 
carriage  tossed  like  a  ship  in  a  gale,  and  no  crew  ever  clung 
to  a  life  line  with  more  desperate  grip  than  did  Will's  passen- 
gers to  their  seats.  Had  the  fifty  Indians  of  the  driver's  fancy 
been  wkooping  behind,  he  would  not  have  plied  the  whip  more 
industriously,  or  been  deafer  to  the  groans  and  ejaculations  of 
his  fares.  When  the  carriage  finally  drew  up  with  another 
teeth-shaking  jerk,  and  Will,  sombrero  in  hand,  opened  the 
coach  door  to  inquire  of  His  Highness  how  he  had  enjoyed  the 
ride,  the  Grand  Duke  replied,  with  suspicious  enthusiasm  : 

1 '  I  would  not  have  missed  it  for  a  large  sum  of  money  ;  but 
rather  than  repeat  it  I  would  return  to  Russia  via  Alaska, 
swim  Behring  Strait,  and  finish  my  journey  on  one  of  your 
government  mules. ' ' 

This  ride  completed  a  trip  which  the  noble  party  pronounced 
satisfactory  in  every  detail.  The  Grand  Duke  invited  Will 
into  his  private  car,  where  he  received  the  thanks  of  the 
company  for  his  zeal  and  skill  as  pilot  of  a  hunting  party.  He 
was  also  invited  by  Alexis  to  visit  him  at  his  palace  should  he 
ever  make  a  journey  to  Russia,  and  was,  moreover,  the  recip- 
ient of  a  number  of  valuable  souvenirs. 

At  that  time  Will  had  very  little  thought  of  crossing  the 


I  SO  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

seas,  but  he  did  decide  to  visit  the  East,  whither  he  had  more 
than  once  journeyed  in  fancy.  The  Indians  were  comparatively 
quiet  and  he  readily  obtained  a  leave  of  absence. 

The  first  stopping-place  was  Chicago,  where  he  was  enter- 
tained by  General  Sheridan  ;  thence  he  went  to  New  York, 
to  be  kindly  received  by  James  Gordon  Bennett,  Leonard 
and  Lawrence  Jerome,  J.  G.  Heckscher  and  others,  who,  it 
will  be  recalled,  were  members  of  the  hunting  party  of  the 
preceding  year.  Ned  Buntline  also  rendered  his  sojourn  in 
the  metropolis  pleasant  in  many  ways.  The  author  had  car- 
ried out  his  intention  of  writing  a  story  of  Western  life  with 
Scout  Cody  for  the  hero  and  the  result,  having  been  drama- 
tized, was  doing  a  flourishing  business  at  one  of  the  great 
city's  theatres.  Will  made  one  of  a  party  that  attended  a  per- 
formance of  the  play  one  evening,  and  it  was  shortly  whis- 
pered about  the  house  that  ' '  Buffalo  Bill ' '  himself  was  in  the 
audience.  It  is  customary  to  call  for  the  author  of  a  play, 
and  no  doubt  the  author  of  this  play  had  been  summoned  be- 
fore the  footlights  in  due  course,  but  on  this  night  the  audi- 
ence demanded  the  hero.  To  respond  to  the  call  was  an  ordeal 
for  which  Will  was  unprepared  ;  but  there  was  no  getting  out 
of  it,  and  he  faced  a  storm  of  applause.  The  manager  of  the 
performance,  enterprising  like  all  of  his  profession,  offered 
Will  five  hundred  dollars  a  week  to  remain  in  New  York  and 
play  the  part  of  "Buffalo  Bill,"  but  the  offer  was  declined 
with  thanks. 

During  his  stay  in  the  city  Will  was  made  the  guest  of  honor 
at  sundry  luncheons  and  dinners  given  by  his  wealthy  enter- 
tainers. He  found  considerable  trouble  in  keeping  his  appoint- 
ments at  first,  but  soon  caught  on  to  the  to  him  unreasonable 
hours  at  which  New  Yorkers  dined,  supped  and  breakfasted. 
The  sense  of  his  social  obligations  lay  so  heavily  on  his  mind 
that  he  resolved  to  balance  accounts  with  a  dinner  at  which  he 
should  be  the  host.  An  inventory  of  cash  on  hand  discovered 
the  sum  of  fifty  dollars  that  might  be  devoted  to  playing  lyji- 
cullus.  Surely  that  would  more  than  pay  for  all  that  ten 


tAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  l8l 

or  a  dozen  men  could  eat  at  one  meal.  "  However,"  he  said 
to  himself,  ' '  I  don't  care  if  it  takes  the  whole  fifty.  It's  all  in 
a  lifetime,  anyway." 

In  all  confidence  he  hied  him  to  Delmonico's,  at  which 
famous  restaurant  he  had  incurred  a  large  share  of  his  social 
obligations.  He  ordered  the  finest  dinner  that  could  be  pre- 
pared for  a  party  of  twelve,  and  set  as  date  the  night  preced- 
ing his  departure  for  the  West.  The  guests  were  invited  with 
genuine  Western  hospitality.  His  friends  had  been  kind  to 
him,  and  he  desired  to  show  them  that  a  man  of  the  West 
could  not  only  appreciate  such  things,  but  return  them. 

The  dinner  was  a  thorough  success.  Not  an  invited  guest 
was  absent.  The  conversation  sparkled.  Quip  and  repartee 
shot  across  the  "  festive  board,"  and  all  went  merry  as  a  din- 
ner bell.  The  host  was  satisfied,  and  proud  withal.  The  next 
morning  he  approached  Delmonico's  cashier  with  an  air  of 
reckless  prodigality. 

"  My  bill,  please,"  said  he,  and  when  he  got  it,  he  looked 
hard  at  it  for  several  minutes.  It  dawned  on  him  gradually 
that  his  fifty  dollars  would  about  pay  for  one  plate.  As  he  con- 
fided to  us  afterward,  that  little  slip  of  paper  frightened  him 
more  than  could  the  prospect  of  a  combat  single-handed  with 
a  whole  tribe  of  Sioux  Indians. 

Unsophisticated  Will !  There  was,  as  he  discovered,  a  won- 
derful difference  between  a  dinner  at  Delmonico's  and  a  dinner 
on  the  plains.  For  the  one,  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  are 
drawn  upon  to  provide  the  bill  of  fare  ;  for  the  other,  all  one 
needs  is  an  ounce  of  lead  and  a  charge  of  powder,  a  bundle  of 
fagots  and  a  match. 

But  it  would  never  do  to  permit  the  restaurant  cashier  to 
suspect  that  the  royal  entertainer  of  the  night  before  was  as- 
tonished at  his  bill,  so  he  requested  that  the  account  be  for- 
warded to  his  hotel,  and  sought  the  open  air,  where  he  might 
breathe  more  freely. 

There  was  but  one  man  in  New  York  to  whom  he  felt  he 
could  turn  in  his  dilemma,  and  that  was  Ned  Buntline.  One 


1 82  I*AST   OF  THK  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

who  could  invent  plots  for  stories,  and  extricate  his  characters 
from  all  sorts  of  embarrassing  situations,  should  be  able  to  in- 
vent a  method  of  escape  from  so  comparatively  simple  a  perplex- 
ity as  a  tavern  bill.  Will's  confidence  in  the  wits  of  his  friend 
was  not  unfounded.  His  first  great  financial  panic  was  safely 
weathered,  but  how  it  was  done  I  do  not  know  to  this  day. 

One  of  Will's  main  reasons  for  visiting  the  Bast  was  to  look 
up  our  only  living  relatives  on  mother's  side — Colonel  Henry 
R.  Guss  and  family,  of  Westchester,  Pennsylvania.  Mother's 
sister,  who  had  married  this  gentleman,  was  not  living,  and  we 
had  never  met  him  or  any  of  his  family.  Ned  Buntline  accom- 
panied Will  on  his  trip  to  Westchester. 

Some  of  my  readers  may  have  passed  through  the  experience 
of  waiting  in  a  strange  drawing-room  for  the  coming  of  rela- 
tives one  has  never  seen,  and  of  whose  personality  one  has  but 
the  vaguest  idea.  And  there  is  the  uncertainty  of  the  recep- 
tion. Will  it  be  frank  and  hearty,  or  reserved  and  doubtful  ? 
During  the  few  minutes  succeeding  the  giving  of  his  and  Bunt- 
line's  cards  to  the  servant,  Will  rather  wished  that  the  elegant 
reception-room  might  be  metamorphosed  into  the  Western 
prairie.  But  presently  the  entrance  to  the  parlor  was  bright- 
ened by  the  loveliest  girl  he  had  ever  looked  upon,  and  follow- 
ing her  walked  a  courtly,  elegant  gentleman.  These  were 
Cousin  Lizzie  and  Uncle  Henry.  There  was  no  doubt  of  the 
quality  of  the  welcome  ;  it  was  most  cordial,  and  Will  enjoyed 
a  delightful  visit  with  his  relatives.  For  his  cousin  he  con- 
ceived an  instant  affection.  The  love  he  had  held  for  his 
mother — the  purest  and  strongest  of  his  affections — became 
the  heritage  of  this  beautiful  girl,  and  thus  enshrined  will  the 
memory  of  her  be  with  him  always. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

STOLEN  HORSES — WILL  IS  ELECTED  TO  THE  NEBRASKA  LEG- 
ISLATURE— A  THEATRICAL  VENTURE — REMARKABLE  PER- 


FORMANCE OF       THE  SCOUT  OF  THE  PLAINS 


-WILD  BILL 


GROWS  RESTLESS — WILL  ORGANIZES  A  THEATRICAL  COM- 
PANY OF   HIS   OWN — DEATH   OF   KIT   CARSON   CODY. 


PON  Will's  return  to  McPher- 
son  he  was  at  once  obliged  to 
take  the  field  to  look  for  In- 
dians that  had  raided  the  station 
during  his  absence  and  carried 
off  a  considerable  number  of 
horses.  Captain  Meinhold  and 
Lieutenant  Lawson  command- 
ed the  company  dispatched  to 
recover  the  stolen  property. 
Will  acted  as  guide,  and  had 
as  an  assistant  T.  B.  Omohun- 
dro,  better  known  by  his  fron- 
tier name  of  "  Texas  Jack.'1 
Will  was  not  long  in  finding  Indian  tracks,  and  accompanied 
by  six  men,  he  went  forward  to  locate  the  redskin  camp  ex- 
actly. They  had  proceeded  but  a  short  distance  when  they 
sighted  a  small  party  of  Indians,  with  horses  grazing.  There 
were  just  thirteen  Indians — an  unlucky  number — and  Will 
feared  that  they  might  discover  the  scouting  party  should  it 
attempt  to  return  to  the  main  command.  He  had  but  to  ques- 
tion his  companions  to  find  them  ready  to  follow  wheresoever 
he  might  lead,  and  they  moved  cautiously  toward  the  Indian 
camp. 

At  the  proper  moment  the  seven  rushed  upon  the  unsuspect^ 
ing  warriors,  who  sprang  for  their  horses  and  gave  battle.    But 

.83 


184  I.AST  OF  THE  GREAT^  SCOUTS. 

the  rattle  of  the  rifles  brought  Captain  Meinhold  to  the  scene, 
and  when  the  Indians  saw  the  reinforcements  coming  up  they 
turned  and  fled.  Six  of  their  number  were  left  dead  on  the 
plain,  and  nearly  all  of  the  stolen  horses  were  recovered.  One 
SQJflier  was  killed,  and  this  was  one  of  the  few  occasions  when 
will  received  a  wound. 

And  now  once  more  was  the  versatile  plainsman  called  upon 
to  enact  a  new  role.  Returning  from  a  long  scout  in  the  fall 
of  '72,  he  found  that  his  friends  had  made  him  a  candidate  for 
the  Nebraska  legislature  from  the  twenty-sixth  district.  He 
had  never  thought  seriously  of  politics,  and  had  a  well-defined 
doubt  of  his  fitness  as  a  law-maker.  He  made  no  campaign, 
but  was  elected  by  a  flattering  majority.  He  was  now  privi- 
leged to  prefix  the  title  "  Honorable  "  to  his  name,  and  later 
this  was  supplanted  by  "  Colonel" — a  title  won  in  the  Ne. 
braska  National  Guard,  and  which  he  claims  is  much  better 
suited  to  his  attainments. 

Will,  unlike  his  father,  had  no  taste  for  politics  or  for  politi- 
cal honors.  I  recall  one  answer — so  characteristic  of  the  man 
— to  some  friends  who  were  urging  him  to  enter  the  political 
arena.  "  No,"  said  he,  "  politics  are  by  far  too  deep  for  me. 
I  think  I  can  hold  my  own  in  any  fair  and  no  foul  fight  ;  but 
politics  seem  to  me  all  foul  and  no  fair.  I  thank  you,  my 
friends,  but  I  must  decline  to  set  out  on  this  trail,  which  I 
know  has  more  cactus  burrs  to  the  square  inch  than  any  I  ever 
followed  on  the  plains. ' ' 

Meantime  Ned  Buntline  had  been  nurturing  an  ambitious 
project.  He  had  been  much  impressed  by  the  fine  appearance 
made  by  Will  in  the  New  York  theater,  and  was  confident  that 
a  fortune  awaited  the  scout  if  he  would  consent  to  enter  the 
theatrical  profession.  He  conceived  the  idea  of  writing  a 
drama  entitled,  ' '  The  Scout  of  the  Plains, ' '  in  which  Will  was 
to  assume  the  title  role  and  shine  as  a  star  of  the  first  magni- 
tude. The  bait  he  dangled  was  that  the  play  should  be  made 
up  entirely  of  frontier  scenes,  which  would  not  only  entertain 
the  public,  but  instruct  it. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  185 

The  bait  was  nibbled  at  and  finally  swallowed,  but  there  was 
a  proviso  that  Wild  Bill  and  Texas  Jack  must  first  be  won 
over  to  act  as  ' '  pards ' '  in  the  enterprise.  He  telegraphed 
his  two  friends  that  he  needed  their  aid  in  an  important  busi- 
ness matter  and  went  to  Chicago  to  meet  them.  He  was  well 
assured  that  if  he  had  given  them  an  inkling  of  the  nature  of 
the  "  business  matter  "  neither  would  put  in  an  appearance  ; 
but  he  relied  on  Ned  Buntline's  persuasive  powers,  which  were 
well  developed. 

There  had  never  been  a  time  when  Wild  Bill  and  Texas 
Jack  declined  to  follow  Will's  lead,  and  on  a  certain  morning 
the  trio  presented  themselves  at  the  Palmer  House  in  Chicago 
for  an  interview  with  Colonel  Judson. 

The  author  could  scarcely  restrain  his  delight.  All  three  of 
the  scouts  were  men  of  fine  physique  and  dashing  appearance. 
It  was  very  possible  that  they  had  one  or  two  things  to  learn 
about  acting,  but  their  inexperience  would  be  more  than  bal- 
anced by  their  reputation  and  personal  appearance,  and  the 
knowledge  that  they  were  enacting  on  the  stage  mock  scenes 
of  what  to  them  had  oft  been  stern  reality.  » 

"Don't  shoot,  pards!"  began  Will,  when  the  conference 
opened.  "  I  guess,  Judsoii,"  he  continued,  after  vainly  try- 
ing to  find  a  diplomatic  explanation,  "  you'd  better  tell  them 
what  we  want.'* 

Buntline  opened  with  enthusiasm,  but  he  did  not  kindle 
Wild  Bill  and  Texas  Jack,  who  looked  as  if  they  might  at  any 
moment  grab  their  sombreros  and  stampede  for  the  frontier. 
Will  turned  the  scale. 

"  We're  bound  to  make  a  fortune  at  it,"  said  he.  "Try  it 
for  awhile,  anyway." 

The  upshot  of  a  long  discussion  was  that  the  scouts  gave  a 
reluctant  consent  to  a  much-dreaded  venture.  Will  made  one 
stipulation. 

"  If  the  Indians  get  on  the  rampage,"  said  he,  "  we  must  be 
allowed  leave  of  absence  to  go  back  and  settle  them. ' ' 

"  All  right,  boys,"  said  Buntline,  "  that  shall  be  put  in  the 


1 86  tAvST  OF  Tin-:  GRKAT  SCOUTS. 

contract.  And  if  you're  called  back  into  the  army  to  fight 
redskins,  I'll  go  with  you." 

This  reply  established  the  author  firmly  in  the  esteem  of  the 
scouts.  The  play  was  written  in  four  hours  (most  playwrights 
allow  themselves  at  least  a  week)  and  the  actor-scouts  received 
their  "parts."  Buntline  engaged  a  company  to  support  the 
stellar  trio,  and  the  play  was  widely  advertised. 

When  the  critical  "first  night"  arrived  none  of  the  scouts 
knew  a  line  of  his  part,  but  each  had  acquired  all  the  varieties 
of  stage  fright  known  to  the  profession.  Buntline  had  hinted 
to  them  the  possibility  of  something  of  the  sort,  but  they  had 
not  realized  to  what  a  condition  of  abject  dismay  a  man  may 
be  reduced  by  the  sight  of  a  few  hundred  inoffensive  people  in 
front  of  a  theater  curtain.  It  would  have  done  them  no  good 
to  have  told  them  (as  is  the  truth)  that  many  experienced 
actors  have  touches  of  stage  fright,  as  well  as  the  unfortunate 
novice.  All  three  declared  that  they  would  rather  face  a  band 
of  war-painted  Indians,  or  undertake  to  check  a  herd  of  stam- 
peding buffaloes,  than  face  the  peaceful-looking  audience  that 
was  waiting  to  criticise  their  Thespian  efforts. 

lyike  almost  all  amateurs,  they  insisted  on  peering  through 
the  peep-holes  in  the  curtain,  which  augmented  their  nervous- 
ness, and  if  the  persuasive  Colonel  Judson  had  not  been  at 
their  elbows,  reminding  them  that  he,  also,  was  to  take  part 
in  the  play,  it  was  more  than  likely  they  would  have  slipped 
quietly  out  at  the  stage  door  and  bought  railway  passage  to 
the  West. 

Presently  the  curtain  rolled  up,  and  the  audience  applauded 
encouragingly  as  three  quaking  six-footers,  clad  in  buckskin, 
made  their  first  bow  before  the  footlights. 

I  have  said  that  Will  did  not  know  a  line  of  his  part,  nor 
did  he  when  the  time  to  make  his  opening  speech  arrived.  It 
had  been  faithfully  memorized,  but  oozed  from  his  mind  like 
the  courage  from  Bob  Acres's  finger-tips.  "Evidently," 
thought  Buntline,  who  was  on  the  stage  with  him,  "  he  needs 
time  to  recover. "  So  he  asked  carelessly  : 


LAST    OF   THE   GRRAT    SCOUTS.  187 

11  What  have  you  been  about  lately,  Bill  ?  " 

This  gave  "The  Scout  of  the  Plains"  an  inspiration.  In 
glancing  over  the  audience,  he  had  recognized  in  one  of  the 
boxes  a  wealthy  gentleman  named  Milligan,  whom  he  had 
once  guided  on  a  big  hunt  near  McPherson.  The  expedition 
had  been  written  up  by  the  Chicago  papers,  and  the  incidents 
of  it  were  well  known. 

"I've  been  out  on  a  hunt  with  Milligan,"  replied  Will,  and 
the  house  came  down.  Milligan  was  quite  popular,  but  had 
been  the  butt  of  innumerable  jokes  because  of  his  alleged  scare 
over  the  Indians.  The  applause  and  laughter  that  greeted  the 
sally  stocked  the  scout  with  confidence,  but  confidence  is  of  no 
use  if  one  has  forgotten  his  part.  It  became  manifest  to  the 
playwright-actor  that  he  would  have  to  prepare  another  play 
in  place  of  the  one  he  had  expected  to  perform,  and  that  he 
must  prepare  it  on  the  spot. 

"  Tell  us  about  it,  Bill,"  said  he,  and  the  prompter  groaned. 

One  of  the  pleasures  of  frontier  life  consists  in  telling  stories 
around  the  camp-fire.  A  man  who  ranks  as  a  good  frontiers- 
man is  pretty  sure  to  be  a  good  raconteur.  Will  was  at  ease 
immediately,  and  proceeded  to  relate  the  story  of  Milligan' s 
hunt  in  his  own  words.  That  it  was  amusing  was  attested  by 
the  frequent  rounds  of  applause.  The  prompter,  with  a  com- 
mendable desire  to  get  things  running  smoothly,  tried  again 
and  again  to  give  Will  his  cue,  but  even  cues  had  been  for- 
gotten. 

The  dialogue  of  that  performance  must  have  been  delightfully 
absurd.  Neither  Texas  Jack  nor  Wild  Bill  was  able  to  utter 
a  line  of  his  part  during  the  entire  evening.  In  the  Indian 
scenes,  however,  they  scored  a  great  success ;  here  was  work 
that  did  not  need  to  be  painfully  memorized,  and  the  mock  red 
men  were  slain  at  an  astonishing  rate. 

Financially  the  play  proved  all  that  its  projectors  could  ask 
for.  Artistically — well,  the  critics  had  a  great  deal  of  fun  with 
the  hapless  dramatist.  The  professionals  in  the  company  had 
played  their  parts  acceptably,  and,  oddly  enough,  the  scouts 


1 88  LAST   OK  THK   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

were  let  down  gently  in  the  criticisms  ;  but  the  critics  had  no 
means  of  knowing  that  the  stars  of  the  piece  had  provided  their 
own  dialogue,  and  poor  Ned  Buntline  was  plastered  with 
ridicule.  It  had  got  out  that  the  play  was  written  in  four 
hours,  and  in  mentioning  this  fact,  one  paper  wondered,  with 
delicate  sarcasm,  what  the  dramatist  had  been  doing  all  that 
time.  Buntline  had  played  the  part  of  Gale  Durg,  who  met 
death  in  the  second  act,  and  a  second  paper,  commenting  on 
this,  suggested  that  it  would  have  been  a  happy  consummation 
had  the  death  occurred  before  the  play  was  written.  A  third 
critic  pronounced  it  a  drama  that  might  be  begun  in  the  middle 
and  played  both  ways,  or  played  backwards,  quite  as  well  as 
the  way  in  which  it  had  been  written. 

However,  nothing  succeeds  like  success.  A  number  of  man- 
agers offered  to  take  hold  of  the  company,  and  others  asked  for 
entrance  to  the  enterprise  as  partners.  Ned  Buntline  took  his 
medicine  from  the  critics  with  a  smiling  face,  for  "let  him  laugh 
who  wins." 

The  scouts  soon  got  over  their  stage  fright,  in  the  course  of 
time  were  able  to  remember  their  parts,  and  did  fully  their 
share  toward  making  the  play  as  much  of  a  success  artistically 
as  it  was  financially.  From  Chicago  the  company  went  to  St. 
I,ouis,  thence  to  Cincinnati  and  other  large  cities,  and  every- 
where drew  large  and  appreciative  houses. 

When  the  season  closed,  in  Boston,  and  Will  had  made  his 
preparations  to  return  to  Nebraska,  an  English  gentleman 
named  Medley  presented  himself  with  a  request  that  the  scout 
act  as  guide  on  a  big  hunt  and  camping  trip  through  Western 
territory.  The  pay  offered  was  liberal — a  thousand  dollars  a 
month  and  expenses — and  Will  accepted  the  offer.  He  spent 
that  summer  in  his  old  occupation,  and  the  ensuing  winter  con- 
tinued his  tour  as  a  star  of  the  drama.  Wild  Bill  and  Texas 
Jack  consented  again  to  ' '  support ' '  him,  but  the  second 
season  proved  too  much  for  the  patience  of  the  former,  and  he 
attempted  to  break  through  the  contract  he  had  signed  for  the 
season.  The  manager  of  course  refused  to  release  him,  but 


LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  189 

Wild  Bill  conceived  the  notion  that  under  certain  circumstances 
the  company  would  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  him. 

That  night  he  put  his  plan  into  execution  by  discharging  his 
blank  cartridges  so  near  the  legs  of  the  dead  Indians  on  the 
stage  that  the  startled  ' '  supers ' '  came  to  life  with  more  real- 
istic yells  than  had  accompanied  their  deaths.  This  was  a  bit 
of  "business  "  not  called  for  in  the  play-book,  and  while  the 
audience  was  vastly  entertained,  the  management  withheld  its 
approval. 

Will  was  delegated  to  expostulate  with  the  reckless  Indian 
slayer  ;  but  Wild  Bill  remarked  calmly  that  he  "  hadn't  hurt 
the  fellows  any,"  and  he  continued  to  indulge  in  his  inno- 
cent pastime. 

Severe  measures  were  next  resorted  to.  He  was  informed 
that  he  must  stop  shooting  the  Indians  after  they  were  dead, 
or  leave  the  company.  This  was  what  Wild  Bill  had  hoped 
for,  and  when  the  curtain  went  up  on  the  next  performance  he 
was  to  be  seen  in  the  audience,  enjoying  the  play  for  the  first 
time  since  he  had  been  mixed  up  with  it. 

Will  sympathized  with  his  former  "  support,"  but  he  had  a 
duty  to  perform,  and  faithfully  endeavored  to  persuade  the 
recreant  actor  to  return  to  the  company.  Persuasion  went  for 
nothing,  so  the  contract  was  annulled,  and  Will  Bill  returned 
to  his  beloved  plains. 

The  next  season  Will  removed  his  family  to  Rochester  and 
organized  a  theatrical  company  of  his  own.  There  was  too 
much  artificiality  about  stage  life  to  suit  one  that  had  been  ac- 
customed to  stern  reality,  and  he  sought  to  do  away  with  this 
as  much  as  possible  by  introducing  into  his  own  company  a 
band  of  real  Indians.  The  season  of  '75-' 76  opened  brilliantly; 
the  company  played  to  crowded  houses  and  Will  made  a  large 
financial  success. 

One  night  in  April,  when  the  season  was  nearing  its  close, 
a  telegram  was  handed  to  him  just  as  he  was  about  to  step 
upon  the  stage.  It  was  from  his  wife,  and  summoned  him  to 
Rochester,  to  the  bedside  of  his  only  son,  Kit  Carson  Cody. 


190  LAST   OK   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

He  consulted  with  his  manager,  and  it  was  arranged  that  after 
the  first  act  he  should  be  excused,  that  he  might  catch  the  train. 

That  first  act  was  a  miserable  experience,  though  the  audi- 
ence did  not  suspect  that  the  actor's  heart  was  almost  stopped 
by  fear  and  anxiety.  He  caught  his  train,  and  the  manager, 
John  Burke,  an  actor  of  much  experience,  played  out  the  part. 

It  was,  too,  a  miserable  ride  to  Rochester,  filled  up  with  the 
gloomiest  of  forebodings,  heightened  by  memories  of  every  in- 
cident in  the  precious  little  life  now  in  danger. 

Kit  was  a  handsome  child,  with  striking  features  and  curly 
hair.  His  mother  always  dressed  him  in  the  finest  clothes, 
and  tempted  by  these  combined  attractions,  gypsies  had  the 
previous  summer  carried  him  away.  But  Kit  was  the  son  of 
a  scout  and  his  young  eyes  were  sharp.  He  marked  the  trail 
followed  by  his  captors,  and  at  the  first  opportunity  gave  them 
the  slip  and  got  safely  home,  exclaiming  as  he  toddled  into 
the  sobbing  family  circle,  "  I  turned  back  adain,  mama  ;  don't 
cry."  Despite  his  anxiety,  Will  smiled  at  the  recollection  of 
the  season  when  his  little  son  had  been  a  regular  visitor  at  the 
theater.  The  little  fellow  knew  that  the  most  important  fea- 
ture of  a  dramatic  performance,  from  a  management's  point  of 
view,  is  a  large  audience.  He  watched  the  seats  fill  in  keen 
anxiety,  and  the  moment  the  curtain  rose  and  his  father  ap- 
peared on  the  stage,  he  would  make  a  trumpet  of  his  little 
hands  and  shout  from  his  box  :  ' '  Good  house,  papa  ! ' '  The 
audience  learned  to  expect  and  enjoy  this  bit  of  by -play  be- 
tween father  and  son.  His  duty  performed,  Kit  settled  him- 
self in  his  seat,  and  gave  himself  up  to  undisturbed  enjoyment 
of  the  play. 

When  Will  reached  Rochester  he  found  his  son  still  alive, 
though  beyond  the  reach  of  medical  aid.  He  was  burning  up 
with  fever,  but  still  conscious,  and  the  little  arms  were  joyfully 
lifted  to  clasp  around  his  father's  neck.  He  lingered  during 
the  next  day  and  into  the  night,  but  the  end  came,  and  Will 
faced  a  great  sorrow  of  his  life.  He  had  built  fond  hopes 
for  his  son,  and  in  a  breath  they  had  been  swept  away.  His 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  191 

boyhood  musings  over  the  prophecy  of  the  fortune-teller  had 
taken  a  turn  when  his  own  boy  was  born.  It  might  be  Kit's 
destiny  to  become  President  of  the  United  States ;  it  was  not 
his  own.  Now,  hope  and  fear  had  vanished  together,  the 
fabric  of  the  dream  had  dissolved,  and  left ' '  not  a  rack  behind. ' ' 
L,ittle  Kit  was  laid  to  rest  in  Mount  Hope  Cemetery,  April 
24,  1876.  He  is  not  dead,  but  sleeping  ;  not  lost,  but  gone  be- 
fore. He  has  joined  the  innumerable  company  of  the  white- 
souled  throng  in  the  regions  of  the  blest.  He  has  gone  to  aid 
my  mother  in  her  mission  unfulfilled—  that  of  turning  heaven- 
ward the  eyes  of  those  that  loved  them  so  dearly  here  on  earth. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  SIOUX  UPRISING  OF  '  76 — SITTING  BUU, — THE  GAUSS  OF 
THE  WAR — OUSTER'S  CAMPAIGN — THE  FIFTH  CAVALRY'S 
BRUSH  WITH  CHEYENNES — A  PRAIRIE  DUEL — THE  SIOUX 
WAR  ON  THE  MIMIC  STAGE — "  SCOUT'S  REST  RANCH" 
— AN  OASIS  IN  THE  DESERT. 

ERY  glad  was  the  sad-hearted 
father  that  the  theatrical  sea- 
son was  so  nearly  over.  The 
mummeries  of  stage  life  were 
more  distasteful  to  him  than 
ever  when  he  returned  to  his 
company  with  his  crushing 
grief  fresh  upon  him.  He  played 
nightly  to  crowded  houses,  but 
it  was  plain  that  his  heart  was 
not  in  his  work.  A  letter 
from  Colonel  Mills,  informing 
him  that  his  services  were 
needed  in  the  army,  came  as  a 

welcome  relief.     He  canceled  his  few  remaining  dates,  and 
disbanded  his  company  with  a  substantial  remuneration. 

This  was  the  spring  of  the  Centennial  year.  It  has  also 
been  called  the  "Custer  year,"  for  during  that  summer  the 
gallant  general  and  his  heroic  Three  Hundred  fell  in  their  un- 
equal contest  with  Sitting  Bull  and  his  warriors. 

Sitting  Bull  was  one  of  the  ablest  chiefs  and  fighters  the 
Sioux  nation  ever  produced.  He  got  his  name  from  the  fact 
that  once  when  he  had  shot  a  buffalo  he  sprang  astride  of  it  to 
skin  it,  and  the  wounded  bull  rose  on  its  haunches  with  the 
Indian  on  its  back.  He  combined  native  Indian  cunning  with 
192 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  193 

the  strategy  and  finesse  needed  to  make  a  great  general,  and 
his  ability  as  a  leader  was  conceded  alike  by  red  and  white 
man.  A  dangerous  man  at  best,  the  wrongs  his  people  had 
suffered  roused  all  his  Indian  cruelty,  vindictiveness,  hatred 
and  thirst  for  revenge. 

The  Sioux  war  of  '76  had  its  origin,  like  most  of  its  prede- 
cessors and  successors,  in  an  act  of  injustice  on  the  part  of  the 
United  States  government  and  a  violation  of  treaty  rights. 

In  1868  a  treaty  had  been  made  with  the  Sioux,  by  which  the 
Black  Hills  country  was  reserved  for  their  exclusive  use,  no 
settling  by  white  men  to  be  allowed.  In  1874,  gold  was  dis- 
covered, and  the  usual  gold  fever  was  followed  by  a  rush  of 
whites  into  the  Indian  country.  The  Sioux  naturally  resented 
the  intrusion,  and  instead  of  attempting  to  placate  them,  to 
the  end  that  the  treaty  might  be  revised,  the  government  sent 
General  Custer  into  the  Black  Hills  with  instructions  to  in- 
timidate the  Indians  into  submission.  But  Custer  was  too 
wise,  too  familiar  with  Indian  nature,  to  adhere  to  the  letter  of 
his  instructions.  Under  cover  of  a  flag  of  truce,  a  council  was 
arranged.  At  this  gathering  coffee,  sugar  and  bacon  were 
distributed  among  the  Indians,  and  along  with  those  commodi- 
ties Custer  handed  around  some  advice.  This  was  to  the  ef- 
fect that  it  would  be  to  the  advantage  of  the  Sioux  if  they  per- 
mitted the  miners  to  occupy  the  gold  country.  The  coffee, 
sugar  and  bacon  were  accepted  thankfully  by  I,o,  but  no 
nation,  tribe  or  individual  since  the  world  began  has  ever  wel- 
comed advice.  It  was  thrown  away  on  I/>.  He  received  it 
with  such  an  air  of  indifference  and  in  such  a  stoical  silence 
that  General  Custer  had  no  hope  his  mission  had  succeeded. 

In  1875  General  Crook  was  sent  into  the  Hills  to  make  a 
farcical  demonstration  of  the  government's  desire  to  maintain 
good  faith,  but  no  one  was  deceived,  the  Indians  least  of  all. 
In  August  Custer  City  was  laid  out,  and  in  two  weeks  its  pop- 
ulation numbered  six  hundred.  General  Crook  drove  out  the 
inhabitants,  and  as  he  marched  triumphantly  out  of  one  end  of 
the  village  the  people  marched  in  again  at  the  other. 


194  I^AST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

The  result  of  this  continued  bad  faith  was  inevitable  ;  every- 
where the  Sioux  rose  in  arms.  Strange  as  it  might  seem  to 
one  that  has  not  followed  the  government's  remarkable  Indian 
policy,  it  had  dispensed  firearms  to  the  Indians  with  a  gener- 
ous hand.  The  government's  Indian  policy,  condensed,  was 
to  stock  the  red  man  with  rifles  and  cartridges  and  then  pro- 
vide him  with  a  first-class  reason  for  using  them  against  the 
whites.  During  May,  June  and  July  of  that  year  the  Sioux 
had  received  i ,  1 20  Remington  and  Winchester  rifles  and  13,000 
rounds  of  patent  ammunition.  During  that  year  they  received 
several  thousand  stands  of  arms  and  more  than  a  million  rounds 
of  ammunition,  and  for  three  years  before  that  they  had  been 
regularly  supplied  with  weapons.  The  Sioux  uprising  of  '76 
was  expensive  for  the  government.  One  does  not  have  to  go 
far  to  find  the  explanation. 

Will  expected  to  join  General  Crook,  but  on  reaching  Chi- 
cago he  found  that  General  Carr  was  still  in  command  of  the 
Fifth  Cavalry  and  had  sent  a  request  that  Will  return  to  his 
old  position.  Carr  was  at  Cheyenne  ;  thither  Will  hastened  at 
once.  He  was  met  at  the  station  by  Captain  Charles  King,  the 
well-known  author  and  now  serving  as  brigadier-general  at 
Manila,  adjutant  of  the  regiment.  As  the  pair  rode  into  camp 
the  cry  went  up  :  "  Here  comes  Buffalo  Bill  !"  Three  ring- 
ing cheers  expressed  the  delight  of  the  troopers  over  his  return 
to  his  old  command,  and  Will  was  equally  delighted  to  meet 
his  quondam  companions.  He  was  appointed  guide  and  chief 
of  scouts,  and  the  regiment  proceeded  to  Laramie.  From  there 
they  were  ordered  into  the  Black  Hills  country,  and  General 
Merritt  replaced  General  Carr. 

The  incidents  of  Custer's  fight  and  fall  are  so  well 
known  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  repeat  them  here.  It  was  a 
better  fight  than  the  famous  charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  at 
Balaklava,  for  not  one  of  the  three  hundred  came  forth  from  the 
"jaws  of  death."  As  at  Balaklava,  "some  one  had  blun- 
dered," not  once,  but  many  times,  and  Custer's  command  dis- 
charged the  entire  debt  with  their  life-blood. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  195 

When  the  news  of  the  tragedy  reached  the  main  army  prep- 
arations were  made  to  move  against  the  Indians  in  force.  The 
Fifth  Cavalry  was  instructed  to  cut  off,  if  possible,  eight  hun- 
dred Cheyenne  warriors  on  their  way  to  join  the  Sioux,  and 
General  Merritt,  with  five  hundred  men,  hastened  to  Hat,  or 
War-Bonnet  Creek,  purposing  to  reach  the  trail  before  the  In- 
dians could  do  so.  The  creek  was  reached  on  the  iyth  of 
July,  and  at  daylight  the  following  morning  Will  rode  forth  to 
ascertain  whether  the  Cheyennes  had  crossed  the  trail.  They 
had  not,  but  that  very  day  the  scout  discerned  the  warriors 
coming  up  from  the  south. 

General  Merritt  ordered  his  men  to  mount  their  horses,  but 
to  remain  out  of  sight,  while  he,  with  his  adjutant,  Charles 
King,  accompanied  Will  on  a  tour  of  observation.  The  Chey- 
ennes came  directly  toward  the  troops,  and  presently  fifteen  or 
twenty  of  them  dashed  off  to  the  west  along  the  trail  the  army 
had  followed  the  night  before.  Through  his  glass  General 
Merritt  remarked  two  soldiers  on  the  trail,  doubtless  couriers 
with  dispatches,  and  these  the  Indians  manifestly  designed  to 
cut  off.  Will  suggested  that  it  would  be  well  to  wait  until  the 
warriors  were  on  the  point  of  charging  the  couriers,  when,  if 
the  general  were  willing,  he  would  take  a  party  of  picked  men 
and  cut  off  the  hostile  delegation  from  the  main  body,  which 
was  just  coming  over  the  divide. 

The  general  acquiesced  and  Will,  galloping  back  to  camp, 
returned  with  fifteen  men.  The  couriers  were  some  four 
hundred  yards  away,  and  their  Indian  pursuers  two  hundred 
behind  them.  General  Merritt  gave  the  word  to  charge,  and 
Will  and  his  men  skurried  toward  the  redskins. 

In  the  skirmish  that  ensued  three  Indians  were  killed.  The 
rest  started  for  the  main  band  of  warriors,  who  had  halted  to 
watch  the  fight,  but  they  were  so  hotly  pursued  by  the  soldiers 
that  they  turned,  at  a  point  half  a  mile  distant  from  General 
Merritt,  and  another  skirmish  took  place. 

Here  something  a  little  out  of  the  usual  occurred — a  challenge 
to  a  duel.  A  warrior,  whose  decorations  and  war-bonnet  pro- 


196  LAST  OF  THE   GREAT  SCOUTS. 

claimed  him  a  chief,  rode  out  in  front  of  his  men,  and  called 
out  in  his  own  tongue,  which  Will  could  understand  : 

"  I  know  you,  Pa-has-ka  !  Come  and  fight  me,  if  you  want 
to  fight!" 

Will  rode  forward  fifty  yards,  and  the  warrior  advanced  a 
like  distance.  The  two  rifles  spoke  and  the  Indian ' s  horse  fell; 
but  at  the  same  moment  Will's  horse  stumbled  into  a  gopher 
hole  and  threw  its  rider.  Both  duelists  were  instantly  on  their 
feet,  confronting  each  other  across  a  space  of  not  more  than 
twenty  paces.  They  fired  again  simultaneously,  and  though 
Will  was  unhurt,  the  Indian  fell  dead. 

The  duel  over,  some  two  hundred  warriors  dashed  up  to  re- 
cover the  chieftain's  body  and  to  avenge  his  death.  It  was  now 
General  Merritt'  s  turn  to  move.  He  dispatched  a  company  of 
soldiers  to  Will's  aid,  and  then  ordered  the  whole  regiment  to 
the  charge.  The  Indians  made  a  stubborn  resistance,  but  as 
they  found  this  useless,  began  a  retreat  toward  Red  Cloud 
Agency,  whence  they  had  come.  The  retreat  continued  for 
thirty-five  miles,  the  troops  following  into  the  agency.  The 
fighting  blood  of  the  Fifth  was  at  fever  heat,  and  they  were 
ready  to  encounter  the  thousands  of  warriors  at  the  agency, 
should  they  exhibit  a  desire  for  battle.  But  they  manifested 
no  such  desire. 

Will  learned  that  the  name  of  the  chief  he  had  killed  that 
morning  was  "Yellow  Hand."  He  was  the  son  of  "Cut 
Nose, ' '  a  leading  spirit  among  the  Cheyennes.  This  old  chief- 
tain offered  Will  four  mules  if  he  would  return  the  war-bonnet 
and  accoutrements  worn  by  the  young  warrior  and  captured  in 
the  fight,  but  Will  was  unable  to  grant  the  request,  much  as  he 
pitied  Cut  Nose  in  his  grief. 

The  Fifth  Cavalry  on  the  following  day  started  on  its  march 
to  join  General  Crook's  command  in  the  Big  Horn  Mountains. 
The  two  commands  united  forces  on  the  3d  of  August  and 
marched  to  the  confluence  of  the  Powder  River  with  the  Yellow- 
stone. Here  General  Miles  met  them,  to  report  that  no  Indians 
had  crossed  the  stream. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  197 

No  other  fight  occurred  ;  but  Will  made  himself  useful  in  his 
capacity  of  scout.  There  were  many  long,  hard  rides,  carrying 
dispatches  that  no  one  else  would  volunteer  to  bear.  When  he 
was  assured  that  the  fighting  was  all  over,  he  took  passage,  in 
September,  on  the  steamer  Far  West,  and  sailed  down  the 
Missouri. 

People  in  the  Eastern  States  were  wonderfully  interested  in 
the  stirring  events  on  the  frontier,  and  Will  conceived  the  idea 
of  putting  the  incidents  of  the  Sioux  war  upon  the  stage.  Upon 
his  return  to  Rochester  he  had  a  play  written  for  his  purpose, 
organized  a  company,  and  opened  his  season.  Previously  he 
had  paid  a  flying  visit  to  Red  Cloud  Agency,  and  induced  a 
number  of  Sioux  Indians  to  take  part  in  his  drama. 

The  red  men  had  no  such  painful  experience  as  Wild  Bill 
and  Texas  Jack.  All  they  were  expected  to  do  in  the  way  of 
acting  was  what  came  natural  to  them.  Their  part  was  to  intro- 
duce a  bit  of  "  local  color,"  to  give  a  war  dance,  take  part  in  a 
skirmish,  or  exhibit  themselves  in  some  typical  Indian 
fashion. 

At  the  close  of  this  season  Will  bought  a  large  tract  of  land 
near  North  Platte  and  started  a  cattle  ranch.  He  already 
owned  one  some  distance  to  the  north  ward,  in  partnership  with 
Major  North,  the  leader  of  the  Pawnee  scouts.  Their  friend- 
ship had  strengthened  since  their  first  meeting,  ten  years  be- 
fore. 

In  this  new.  ranch  Will  takes  great  pride.  He  has  added  to 
its  area  until  it  now  covers  seven  thousand  acres,  and  he  has 
developed  its  resources  to  the  utmost.  Twenty-five  hundred 
acres  are  devoted  to  alfalfa  and  twenty-five  hundred  sown  to 
corn.  One  of  the  features  of  interest  to  visitors  is  a  wooded 
park,  containing  a  number  of  deer  and  young  buffaloes.  Near 
the  park  is  a  beautiful  lake.  In  the  centre  of  the  broad 
tract  of  land  stands  the  picturesque  building  known  as  ' '  Scout's 
Rest  Ranch,"  which,  seen  from  the  foothills,  has  the  appear- 
ance of  an  old  castle. 

The  ranch  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  that  one  can 


198  LAST   OF   THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

imagine,  and  is,  besides,  an  object  lesson  in  the  value  of  scien- 
tific investigation  and  experiment,  joined  with  persistence  and 
perseverance.  When  Colonel  Cody  bought  the  property  he 
was  an  enthusiastic  believer  in  the  possibilities  of  Nebraska  de- 
velopment. His  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Goodman,  was  put  in 
charge  of  the  place. 

The  whole  Platte  Valley  formed  part  of  the  district  once 
miscalled  the  Great  American  Desert.  It  was  an  idea  com- 
monly accepted,  but,  as  the  sequel  proved,  erroneous,  that  lack 
of  moisture  was  the  cause  of  lack  of  vegetation.  An  irrigating 
ditch  was  constructed  on  the  ranch,  trees  were  planted  and  it 
was  hoped  that  with  such  an  abundance  of  moisture  they  would 
spring  up  like  weeds.  Vain  hope!  There  was  "  water,  water 
everywhere,"  but  not  a  tree  would  grow. 

Will  visited  his  old  Kansas  home,  and  the  sight  of  tall  and 
stately  trees  filled  him  with  a  desire  to  transport  some  of  this 
beauty  to  his  Nebraska  ranch. 

"  I'd  give  five  hundred  dollars,"  said  he,  "  for  every  tree  I 
had  like  that  in  Nebraska  !  " 

Impressed  by  the  proprietor's  enthusiasm  for  arboreal  de- 
velopment, Mr.  Goodman  began  investigation  and  experiment. 
It  took  him  but  a  short  time  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  de- 
ficiencies of  the  soil,  and  this  done,  the  bigger  half  of  the  prob- 
lem was  solved. 

Indian  legend  tells  us  that  this  part  of  our  country  was  once 
an  inland  sea.  There  is  authority  for  the  statement  that  to-day 
it  is  a  vast  subterranean  reservoir,  and  the  conditions  warrant 
the  assertion.  The  soil  in  all  the  region  has  a  depth  only  of 
from  one  to  three  feet,  while  underlying  the  shallow  arable 
deposit  is  one  immense  bedrock,  varying  in  thickness,  the 
average  being  from  three  to  six  feet.  Everywhere  water  may 
be  tapped  by  digging  through  the  thin  soil  and  boring  through 
the  rock  formation.  The  country  gained  its  reputation  as  a 
desert,  not  from  lack  of  moisture,  but  from  lack  of  soil.  In 
the  pockets  of  the  foothills,  where  a  greater  depth  of  soil  had 
accumulated  from  the  washings  of  the  slopes  above,  beautiful 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  199 

little  groves  of  trees  might  be  found,  and  the  islands  of  the 
Platte  River  were  heavily  wooded.  Everywhere  else  was  a 
treeless  waste. 

The  philosophy  of  the  transformation  from  sea  to  plain  is 
not  fully  understood.  The  most  tenable  theory  yet  advanced 
is  that  the  bedrock  is  an  alkaline  deposit,  left  by  the  waters 
in  a  gradually  widening  and  deepening  margin.  On  this  the 
prairie  wind  sifted  its  accumulation  of  dust,  and  the  rain 
washed  down  its  quota  from  the  bank  above.  In  the  slow  pro- 
cess of  countless  years  the  rock  formation  extended  over  the 
whole  sea  ;  the  alluvial  deposit  deepened  ;  seeds  lodged  in  it, 
and  the  buffalo-grass  and  sage- bush  began  to  grow,  their 
yearly  decay  adding  to  the  ever-thickening  layer  of  soil. 

Having  learned  the  secret  of  the  earth,  Mr.  Goodman  de- 
voted himself  to  the  study  of  the  trees.  He  investigated  those 
varieties  having  lateral  roots,  to  determine  which  would  flour- 
ish best  in  a  shallow  soil.  He  experimented,  he  failed,  and 
he  tried  again.  All  things  come  round  to  him  who  will  but 
work.  Many  experiments  succeeded  the  first,  and  many  fail- 
ures followed  in  their  train.  But  at  last,  like  Archimedes,  he 
could  cry  ' '  Eureka  !  I  have  found  it !  "  In  a  very  short 
time  he  had  the  ranch  charmingly  laid  out  with  rows  of  cotton- 
woods,  box-elder,  and  other  members  of  the  tree  family.  The 
ranch  looked  like  an  oasis  in  the  desert,  and  neighbors  in- 
quired into  the  secret  of  the  magic  that  had  worked  so  marvel- 
ous a  transformation.  The  streets  of  North  Platte  are  now 
beautiful  with  trees  and  adjoining  farms  grow  many  more.  It 
is  "  Scout's  Rest  Ranch,"  however,  that  is  pointed  out  with 
pride  to  travelers  on  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad. 

Mindful  of  his  resolve  to  one  day  have  a  residence  in  North 
Platte,  Will  purchased  the  site  on  which  his  first  residence 
was  erected.  His  family  had  sojourned  in  Rochester  for  sev- 
eral years,  and  when  they  returned  to  the  West  the  new  home 
was  built  according  to  the  wishes,  and  under  the  supervision 
of  the  wife  and  mother.  To  the  dwelling  was  given  the  name 
"  Welcome  Wigwam." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


LITERARY  WORK — COLONEL  CODY'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY — GUESTS 
AT  NORTH  PLATTE — A  DEER  HUNT — WHY  THE  FAWN  WENT 
FREE — THE  RANCH  ON  THE  DISMAL  RIVER — NINE  DAYS' 
CAMP  IN  THE  FOOTHILLS — AN  ESTIMATE  OF  COLONEL 
CODY'S  SUCCESS  AS  AN  ACTOR. 

T  was  during  this  period  of  his 
life  that  my  brother's  first  lit- 
erary venture  was  made.  As 
the  reader  has  seen,  his  school 
days  were  few  in  number,  and 
as  he  told  Mr.  Majors,  in 
signing  his  first  contract  with 
him,  he  could  use  a  rifle  bet- 

IRrSH^  ter  than  a  pen-  A  life  of  con- 
W^^^^»  stant  action  on  the  frontier 
|mvs>."^M^^P  does  not  leave  a  man  much  time 
vS^^W  f°r  ac(luirinS  an  ^ucation  ;  so 
V*  feP^  k  is  no  Sreat  wonder  that  the 
first  sketch  Will  wrote  for  pub- 
lication was  destitute  of  punctuation  and  short  of  capitals  in 
many  places.  His  attention  was  directed  to  these  shortcom- 
ings, but  Western  life  had  cultivated  a  disdain  for  petty 
things. 

"Ivife  is  too  short,"  said  he,  "to  make  big  letters  when 
small  ones  will  do  ;  and  as  for  punctuation,  if  my  readers 
don't  know  enough  to  take  their  breath  without  those  little 
marks,  they'll  have  to  lose  it,  that's  all." 

But  in  spite  of  his  jesting  it  was  characteristic  of  him  that 
when  he  undertook  anything  he  wished  to  do  it  well.  He  now 

200 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  2OI 

had  leisure  for  study,  and  he  used  it  to  such  good  advantage 
that  he  was  soon  able  to  send  to  the  publishers  a  clean  manu- 
script, grammatical,  and  well  spelled, capitalized  and  punctuated. 
The  publishers  appreciated  the  improvement,  though  they 
had  sought  after  his  work  in  its  cruder  state  and  paid  good 
prices  for  it. 

Our  author  would  never  consent  to  write  anything  except 
actual  scenes  from  border  life.  As  a  sop  to  the  Cerberus  of 
sensationalism,  he  did  occasionally  condescend  to  heighten 
his  effects  by  exaggeration.  In  sending  one  story  to  the  pub- 
lisher he  wrote  : 

' '  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  lie  so  outrageously  in  this  yarn.  My 
hero  has  killed  more  Indians  on  one  war-trail  than  I  have 
killed  in  all  my  life.  But  I  understand  this  is  what  is  expected 
in  border  tales.  If  you  think  the  revolver  and  bowie-knife 
are  used  too  freely,  you  may  cut  out  a  fatal  shot  or  stab  where- 
ever  you  deem  it  wise." 

Even  this  story,  which  one  accustomed  to  border  life  con- 
fessed to  be  exaggerated,  fell  far  short  of  the  sensational  and 
blood-curdling  tales  usually  written,  and  was  published  ex- 
actly as  the  author  wrote  it. 

During  the  summer  of  '77  I  paid  a  visit  to  our  relatives  in 
Westchester,  Pennsylvania.  With  me  was  my  only  child,  a 
little  daughter.  We  were  now  alone  in  the  world.  My  hus- 
band had  lost  all  his  wealth  before  his  death,  and  I  was  obliged 
to  rely  upon  my  brother  for  a  support.  To  meet  a  widespread 
demand,  Will  this  summer  wrote  his  autobiography.  It  was 
published  at  Hartford,  Connecticut,  and  I,  anxious  to  do  some- 
thing for  myself,  took  the  general  agency  of  the  book  for  the 
state  of  Ohio,  spending  a  part  of  the  summer  there  in  push- 
ing its  sale.  But  I  soon  tired  of  a  business  life,  and  turning 
over  the  agency  to  more  competent  hands,  went  from  Cleve- 
land to  visit  Will  at  his  new  home,  just  completed,  at  North 
Platte,  where  there  were  a  number  of  other  guests  at  the  time. 

Besides  his  cattle  ranch  in  the  vicinity  of  North  Platte,  Will 
had  another  ranch  on  the  Dismal  River,  sixty-five  miles  north, 
touching  the  Dakota  line.  One  day  he  remarked  to  us  : 


202  LAST  OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

"  I'm  sorry  to  leave  you  to  your  own  resources  for  a  few 
days,  but  I  must  take  a  run  up  to  my  ranch  on  Dismal  River." 

Not  since  our  early  Kansas  trip  had  I  had  an  experience  in 
camping  out,  and  in  those  days  I  was  almost  too  young  to  ap- 
preciate it ;  but  it  had  left  me  with  a  keen  desire  to  try  it 
again. 

' '  Let  us  all  go  with  you,  Will, ' '  I  exclaimed.  ' '  We  can  camp 
out  on  the  road. ' ' 

Our  friends  added  their  approval,  and  Will  fell  in  with  the 
suggestion  at  once. 

1 '  There' s  no  reason  why  you  can't  go  if  you  wish  to, ' '  said  he. 
Will  owned  numerous  conveyances  and  was  able  to  pro- 
vide ways  and  means  to  carry  us  all  comfortably.  L,ou  and  the 
two  little  girls,  Arta  and  Orra,  rode  in  an  open  phaeton.  There 
were  covered  carriages,  surreys  and  a  variety  of  turnouts  to 
transport  the  invited  guests.  Several  prominent  citizens  of 
North  Platte  were  invited  to  join  the  party,  and  when  our  ar- 
rangements were  completed  we  numbered  twenty-five. 

Will  took  a  caterer  along,  and  made  ample  provisions  for  the 
inner  man  and  woman.  He  knew,  from  long  experience,  that 
a  camping  trip  without  an  abundance  of  food  is  rather  a  dreary 
affair. 

All  of  us  except  Will  were  out  for  pleasure  solely,  and  we 
found  time  to  enjoy  ourselves  during  the  first  day's  ride  of 
twenty-five  miles.  As  we  looked  around  at  the  new  and  wild 
scenes  while  the  tents  were  pitched  for  the  night,  Will  led  the 
ladies  of  the  party  to  a  tree,  saying : 

' '  You  are  the  first  white  women  whose  feet  have  trod  this 
region.  Carve  your  names  here  and  celebrate  the  event." 

After  a  good  night's  rest  and  a  bounteous  breakfast  we  set 
out  in  high  spirits,  and  were  soon  far  out  in  the  foothills. 

One  who  has  never  seen  these  peculiar  formations  can  have 
but  little  idea  of  them.  On  every  side,  as  far  as  the  eye  can 
see,  undulations  of  earth  stretch  away  like  the  waves  of  the 
ocean,  and  on  them  no  vegetation  flourishes  save  buffalo-grass^ 
sage-brush,  and  the  cactus,  blooming  but  thorny. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  203 

The  second  day  I  rode  horseback,  in  company  with  Will 
and  one  or  two  others  of  the  party,  over  a  constant  succession 
of  hill  and  vale  ;  we  mounted  an  elevation  and  descended  its 
farther  side,  only  to  be  confronted  by  another  hill.  The  horse- 
back party  was  somewhat  in  advance  of  those  in  carriages. 

From  the  top  of  one  hill  Will  scanned  the  country  with  his 
field-glass  and  remarked  that  some  deer  were  headed  our  way, 
and  that  we  should  have  fresh  venison  for  dinner.  He  directed 
us  to  ride  down  into  the  valley  and  tarry  there,  so  that  we 
might  not  startle  the  timid  animals,  while  he  continued  part 
way  up  the  hill  and  halted  in  position  to  get  a  good  shot  at  the 
first  one  that  came  over  the  knoll.  A  fawn  presently  bounded 
into  view,  and  Will  brought  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder  ;  but  much 
to  our  surprise,  instead  of  firing,  dropped  the  weapon's  butt  on 
the  ground.  Another  fawn  passed  him  before  he  fired,  and  as 
the  little  creature  fell  we  rode  up  to  Will's  side  and  began  chaff- 
ing him  unmercifully,  one  gentleman  remarking  : 

' '  It  is  difficult  to  believe  we  are  in  the  presence  of  the  crack 
shot  of  America,  when  we  see  him  allow  two  deer  to  pass  by  be- 
fore he  brings  one  down. ' ' 

But  to  the  laughing  and  chaffing  Will  answered  not  a  word, 
and  recalling  the  childish  story  I  had  heard  of  his  buck  fever, 
I  wondered  if,  at  this  late  date,  it  were  possible  for  him  to  have 
another  attack  of  that  kind.  The  deer  was  handed  over  to  the 
commissary  department  and  we  rode  on. 

"  Will,  what  was  the  matter  with  you  just  now?  "  I  asked 
him,  privately.  "Why  didn't  you  shoot  that  first  deer  ;  did 
you  have  another  attack  like  you  had  when  you  were  a  little 
boy?" 

He  rode  along  in  silence  for  a  few  moments  and  then  turned 
to  me  with  the  query  : 

"  Did  you  ever  look  into  a  deer's  eyes  ?  "  And  as  I  replied 
that  I  had  not,  he  continued  : 

"Everyone  has  his  little  weakness,  mine  is  a  deer's  eye.  I 
don' t  want  you  to  say  anything  about  it  to  your  friends,  for 
they  would  laugh  more  than  ever,  but  the  fact  is  I  have  never 


204  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

yet  been  able  to  shoot  a  deer  if  it  looked  me  in  the  eye.  With 
a  buffalo,  or  a  bear,  or  an  Indian,  it  is  different.  But  a  deer 
has  the  eye  of  a  trusting  child,  soft,  gentle  and  confiding.  No 
one  but  a  brute  could  shoot  a  deer  if  he  caught  that  look.  The 
first  that  came  over  the  knoll  looked  straight  at  me  ;  I  let  it  go 
by,  and  did  not  look  at  the  second  until  I  was  sure  it  had 
passed  me." 

He  seemed  somewhat  ashamed  of  his  soft-heartedness  ;  yet 
to  rue  it  was  but  one  of  many  little  incidents  that  revealed  a 
side  of  his  nature  the  rough  life  of  the  frontier  had  not  cor- 
rupted. 

Will  expected  to  reach  the  Dismal  River  on  the  third  day, 
and  at  noon  of  it  he  remarked  that  he  had  better  ride  ahead 
and  give  notice  of  our  coming,  for  the  man  who  looked  after 
the  ranch  had  his  wife  with  him,  and  she  would  likely  be  dis- 
mayed at  the  thought  of  preparing  supper  for  so  large  a  crowd 
on  a  minute's  notice. 

Sister  Julia's  son,  Will  Goodman,  a  lad  of  fifteen,  was  of  our 
party,  and  he  offered  to  be  the  courier. 

I  'Are  you  sure  you  know  the  way  ?  ' '  asked  his  uncle. 
"Oh,  yes,"    was  the  confident  response;    "you  know    I 

have  been  over  the  road  with  you  before,  and  I  know  just  how 
to  go." 

"  Well,  tell  me  how  you  would  go." 

Young  Will  described  the  trail  so  accurately  that  his  uncle 
concluded  it  would  be  safe  for  him  to  undertake  the  trip,  and 
the  lad  rode  ahead,  happy  and  important. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  we  reached  the  ranch,  and 
the  greeting  of  the  overseer  was  : 

II  Well,  well ;  what's  all  this?  " 

"  Didn't  you  know  we  were  coming?  "  asked  Will,  quickly. 
"  Hasn't  Will  Goodman  been  here?"  The  ranchman  shook 
his  head. 

"  Haven't  seen  him,  sir,"  he  replied,  "  since  he  was  here 
with  you  before." 

"  Well,  he'll  be  along,"  said  Will,  quietly,  but  I  detected  a 


LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  2O5 

ring  of  anxiety  in  his  voice.  ' '  Go  into  the  house  and  make 
yourselves  comfortable,"  he  added.  "It  will  be  some  time 
before  a  meal  can  be  prepared  for  such  a  supper  party."  We 
entered  the  house,  but  he  remained  outside,  and  mounting  the 
stile  that  served  as  a  gate  examined  the  nearer  hills  with  his 
glass.  There  was  no  sign  of  Will,  Jr. ,  so  the  ranchman  was 
directed  to  dispatch  five  or  six  men  in  as  many  directions  to 
search  for  the  boy,  and  as  they  hastened  away  on  their  mission 
Will  remained  on  the  stile,  running  his  fingers  every  few  min- 
utes through  the  hair  over  his  forehead — a  characteristic  ac- 
tion with  him  when  worried.  Thinking  I  might  reassure  him, 
I  came  out  and  chided  him  gently  for  what  I  was  pleased  to 
regard  as  his  needless  anxiety.  It  was  impossible  for  Willie 
to  lose  his  way  very  long,  I  explained,  without  knowing  any- 
thing about  my  subject.  "See  how  far  you  can  look  over 
these  hills.  It  is  not  as  if  he  were  in  the  woods,"  said  I. 

Will  looked  at  me  steadily  and  pityingly  for  a  moment. 
"Go  back  in  the  house,  Nell,"  said  he,  with  a  touch  of  impa- 
tience, "you  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about." 

That  was  true  enough,  but  when  I  returned  obediently  to 
the  house  I  repeated  my  opinion  that  worry  over  the  absent 
boy  was  needless,  for  it  would  be  difficult,  I  declared,  for  one 
to  lose  himself  where  the  range  of  vision  was  so  extensive  as 
it  was  from  the  top  of  one  of  these  foothills. 

"But  suppose,"  said  one  of  the  party,  "that  you  were  in 
the  valley  behind  one  of  the  foothills — what  then  ?  * ' 

This  led  to  an  animated  discussion  as  to  the  danger  of  get- 
ting lost  in  this  long  range  locality,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  Will 
walked  in,  his  equanimity  quite  restored. 

"It's  all  right,"  said  he,  "I  can  see  the  youngster  coming 
along. ' ' 

We  flocked  to  the  stile,  and  discovered  a  moving  speck  in 
the  distance.  Looked  at  through  the  field-glasses,  it  proved 
to  be  the  belated  courier.  Then  we  appealed  to  Will  to  settle 
the  question  that  had  been  under  discussion. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"   he  answered  impressively,   "if 


2O6  LAST   OF  THK  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

one  of  you  were  lost  among  these  foothills,  and  a  whole  regi- 
ment started  out  in  search  of  you,  the  chances  are  ten  to  one 
that  you  would  starve  to  death  before  you  could  be  found. ' ' 

To  find  the  way  with  ease  and  locate  the  trail  unerringly 
over  an  endless  and  monotonous  succession  of  hills  identical  in 
appearance  is  an  ability  the  Indian  possesses,  but  few  are  the 
white  men  that  can  imitate  the  aborigine.  I  learned  afterwards 
that  it  was  accounted  one  of  Will's  great  accomplishments  as 
a  scout  that  he  was  perfectly  at  home  among  the  frozen  waves 
of  the  prairie  ocean. 

When  the  laggard  arrived  and  was  pressed  for  particulars 
he  declared  he  had  traveled  eight  or  ten  miles  when  he  found 
that  he  was  off  the  trail.  "I  thought  I  was  lost,"  said  he, 
"but  after  considering  the  matter  I  decided  that  I  had  one 
chance ;  that  was  to  go  back  over  my  own  tracks.  The  marks 
of  my  horse's  hoofs  led  me  out  on  the  main  trail,  and  your 
tracks  were  so  fresh  that  I  had  no  further  trouble." 

"Pretty  good,"  said  Will,  patting  the  boy's  shoulder. 
"Pretty  good.  You  have  some  of  the  Cody  blood  in  you, 
that's  plain." 

The  next  day  was  passed  in  looking  over  the  ranch,  and  the 
day  following  we  visited,  at  Will's  solicitation,  a  spot  that  he  had 
named  ' '  The  Garden  of  the  Gods. ' '  Our  thoughtful  host  had 
sent  ranchmen  ahead  to  prepare  the  place  for  our  reception, 
and  we  were  as  surprised  and  delighted  as  he  could  desire.  A 
patch  on  the  river's  brink  was  filled  with  tall  and  stately  trees 
and  luxuriant  shrubs  laden  with  fruits  and  flowers,  while  birds 
of  every  hue  nested  and  sang  about  us.  It  was  a  miniature 
paradise  in  the  midst  of  a  desert  of  sage-brush  and  buffalo- 
grass.  The  interspaces  of  the  grove  were  covered  with  rich 
green  grass,  and  in  one  of  these  velvet -carpeted  nooks  the 
workmen,  under  Will's  direction,  had  put  up  an  arbor  with 
rustic  seats  and  table.  Herein  we  ate  our  luncheon,  and  every 
sense  was  pleasured. 

As  it  was  not  likely  that  the  ladies  of  the  party  would  ever 
3^2  the  place  again,  so  remote  was  it  from  civilization,  belong- 


LAST  OF  THE   GREAT  SCOUTS.  207 

ing  to  the  as  yet  uninhabited  part  of  the  Western  plains,  we 
decided  to  explore  it  in  the  hope  of  finding  something  that 
would  serve  as  a  souvenir.  We  had  not  gone  far  when  we 
found  ourselves  out  of  Eden  and  in  the  desert  that  surrounded 
it,  but  it  was  the  desert  that  held  our  great  discovery.  On  an 
isolated  elevation  stood  a  lone,  tall  tree,  in  the  topmost 
branches  of  which  reposed  what  seemed  to  be  a  large  package. 
As  soon  as  our  imaginations  got  fairly  to  work  the  package 
became  the  hidden  treasure  of  some  prairie  bandit,  and  while 
two  of  the  party  returned  for  our  masculine  forces  the  rest  of  us 
kept  guard  over  the  cachet  in  the  tree-top.  Will  came  up  with 
the  others,  and  when  we  pointed  out  to  him  the  supposed  chest 
of  gold  he  smiled. 

' '  I  am  sorry, ' '  said  he, '  *  to  dissipate  the  hopes  you  ladies  have 
built  in  yonder  tree,  but  the  truth  is  you  are  gazing  not  at  any- 
thing of  intrinsic  value,  but  on  the  open  sepulchre  of  some 
departed  brave,  and  your  treasure-trove  turns  out  to  be  only 
the  hidden  skeleton,  which,  with  woman's  penetration,  you 
have  discovered  even  in  the  remote  closet  of  Nature's  home." 
As  we  retraced  our  steps,  somewhat  crestfallen,  we  listened 
to  the  tale  of  another  of  the  red  man's  superstitions. 

When  some  great  chief,  who  particularly  distinguishes  him- 
self on  the  war-path,  loses  his  life  on  the  battle-field  without 
losing  his  scalp,  he  is  regarded  as  especially  favored  by  the 
Great  Spirit.  A  more  exalted  sepulchre  than  mother  earth  is 
deemed  fitting  for  such  a  warrior.  Accordingly  he  is  wrapped 
in  his  blanket-shroud,  and,  in  his  war  paint  and  feathers  and 
with  his  weapons  by  his  side,  he  is  placed  in  the  top  of  the 
highest  tree  in  the  neighborhood,  the  spot  thenceforth  being 
sacred  against  intrusion  for  a  certain  number  of  moons.  At 
the  end  of  that  period  messengers  are  dispatched  to  ascertain 
if  the  remains  have  been  disturbed.  If  they  have  not  the  de- 
parted is  esteemed  a  spirit  chief,  who  in  the  happy  hunting 
grounds  intercedes  for  and  leads  on  to  sure  viciory  the  warriors 
who  trusted  to  his  leadership  in  the  material  world. 

We  bade  a  reluctant  adieu  to  the  idyllic  retreat,  and  threw 


2O8  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

it  many  a  backward  glance  as  we  took  our  way  over  the  desert 
that  stretched  between  us  and  the  ranch.  Here  another  night 
was  passed,  and  then  we  set  out  for  home.  The  brief  sojourn 
"near  to  Nature's  heart"  had  been  a  delightful  experience, 
holding  for  many  of  us  the  charm  of  novelty,  and  for  all 
recreation  and  pleasant  comradeship.  The  episode  was  written 
up  most  graphically  at  the  time  under  the  caption,  "A  Nine 
Days'  Camp  in  the  Foothills." 

With  the  opening  of  the  theatrical  season  Will  returned  to 
the  stage,  and  his  histrionic  career  continued  for  five  years 
longer.  As  an  actor  he  achieved  a  certain  kind  of  success.  He 
played  in  every  large  city  of  the  United  States,  always  to 
crowded  houses,  and  was  everywhere  received  with  enthusi- 
asm. There  was  no  doubt  of  his  financial  success,  whatever 
criticisms  might  be  passed  on  the  artistic  side  of  his  perform- 
ance. It  was  his  personality  and  reputation  that  interested 
his  audiences.  They  did  not  expect  the  art  of  Sir  Henry 
Irving,  and  you  may  be  sure  that  they  did  not  receive  it. 

Will  never  enjoyed  this  part  of  his  career ;  he  endured  it 
simply  because  it  was  the  means  to  an  end.  He  had  not  for- 
gotten his  boyish  dream — his  resolve  that  he  would  one  day 
present  to  the  world  an  exhibition  that  would  give  a  realistic 
picture  of  life  in  the  far  West,  depicting  its  dangers  and  priva- 
tions as  well  as  its  picturesque  phases.  His  first  theatrical 
season  had  shown  him  how  favorably  such  an  exhibition  would 
be  received,  and  his  long-cherished  ambition  began  to  take 
shape.  He  knew  that  an  enormous  amount  of  money  would 
be  needed,  and  to  acquire  such  a  sum  he  lived  for  many  years 
behind  the  footlights. 

I  was  present  in  a  Leavenworth  theater  during  one  of  his 
last  performances — one  in  which  he  played  the  part  of  a  loving 
swain  to  a  would-be  charming  lassie.  When  the  curtain  fell 
on  the  last  act  I  went  behind  the  scenes,  in  company  with  a 
party  of  friends,  and  congratulated  the  star  upon  his  excellent 
acting. 

"Oh,  Nellie,"  he  groaned,  "don't  say  anything  about  it. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

If  heaven  will  forgive  me  this  foolishness,  I  promise  to  quit  it 
forever  when  this  season  is  over. ' ' 

That  was  the  way  he  felt  about  the  stage,  so  far  as  his  part 
in  it  was  concerned.  He  was  a  fish  out  of  water.  The  feeble 
pretensions  to  a  stern  reality,  and  the  mock  dangers  exploited 
could  not  but  fail  to  seem  trivial  to  one  who  had  lived  the  very 
scenes  depicted. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


FIRST  VISIT  TO  THE  VAU.EY  OF  THE)  BIG  HORN— AN  INDIAN 
DESCRIPTION  OF  EITHITY  TUGALA,  THE  IJIS  OF  THE  RED 
MAN — COLONEL  CODY'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  BEAUTIES  OF  THE 
BIG  HORN  BASIN — THE  HAUNTED  LAKE — THE  COMMANDS 
OF  THE  GREAT  SPIRIT  FROM  AN  INDIAN  POINT  OF  VIEW. 

Y  brother  was  again  bereaved  in 
1880,  by  the  visit  of  the  Death 
Angel,  when  his  little  daugh- 
ter Orra  was  called  home.  Her 
death  forged  another  link  in 
the  gradually  lengthening 
chain  that  unites  earth  and 
heaven.  One  by  one  the  com- 
pany on  the  other  side  grows 
larger ;  one  by  one  the  treas- 
ures increase  above,  to  draw 
upward  the  eyes  set  on  earthly 
success.  At  her  own  request, 
Orra's  body  was  interred  in 
Rochester,  in  beautiful  Mount  Hope  Cemetery,  by  the  side  of 
little  Kit  Carson.  Here  brother  and  sister  peacefully  await 
the  sounding  of  the  last  trump. 

But  joy  follows  upon  sadness,  and  the  summer  before  Will 
spent  his  last  season  on  the  stage  was  a  memorable  one  for 
him.  It  marked  the  birth  of  another  daughter,  who  was  chris- 
tened Irma.  This  daughter  is  the  very  apple  of  her  father's 
eye,  to  her  he  gives  the  affection  that  is  her  due,  and  round  her 
clings  the  halo  of  the  tender  memories  of  the  other  two  that  have 
210 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  211 

departed  this  life.  Her  charm  of  person  and  grace  of  disposi- 
tion are  such  as  merit  all  the  wealth  of  love  poured  out  upon  her. 

This  year,  1882,  was  also  the  one  in  which  Will  paid  his  first 
visit  to  the  valley  of  the  Big  Horn.  He  had  often  traversed 
the  outskirts  of  that  region  and  heard  incredible  tales  from 
Indians  and  trappers  of  its  wonders  and  beauties,  but  he  had 
yet  to  explore  it  himself.  In  his  early  experience  as  Pony 
Express  rider,  California  Joe  had  related  to  him  the  first  story 
he  had  heard  of  the  enchanted  basin,  and  in  1875,  when  he  was 
in  charge  of  a  large  body  of  Arapahoe  Indians  that  had  been 
permitted  to  leave  their  reservation  for  a  big  hunt,  he  obtained 
more  details. 

The  agent  warned  Will  that  some  of  the  Indians  were  dis- 
satisfied and  might  attempt  to  escape,  but  to  all  appearances — 
though  he  watched  them  sharply — they  were  entirely  content. 
Game  was  plentiful,  the  weather  fine,  and  nothing  seemed 
omitted  from  the  red  man's  happiness. 

One  night  about  twelve  o'clock  Will  was  aroused  by  an 
Indian  guide,  who  informed  him  that  a  party  of  some  two 
hundred  Arapahoes  had  started  away  some  two  hours  before, 
and  were  on  a  journey  northward.  The  red  man  does  not 
wear  his  heart  upon  his  sleeve  for  government  daws  to  peck  at. 
One  knows  what  he  proposes  to  do  after  he  has  done  it.  The 
red  man  is  conspicuously  among  the  things  that  are  not  always 
what  they  seem. 

Pursuit  was  immediately  set  on  foot,  and  the  entire  body  of 
truant  wariors  were  brought  back  without  bloodshed.  One  of 
them — a  young  warrior — came  to  Will's  tent  to  beg  for  tobacco. 
The  Indian — as  all  know  that  have  made  his  acquaintance — 
has  no  difficulty  in  reconciling  begging  with  his  native  dignity. 
To  work  may  be  beneath  him,  to  beg  is  a  different  matter,  and 
there  is  frequently  a  delightful  hauteur  about  his  mendicancy. 
In  this  respect  he  is  not  unlike  some  of  his  white  brothers. 
Will  gave  the  young  chief  the  desired  tobacco  and  then  ques- 
tioned him  closely  concerning  the  attempted  escape. 

"Surely,"  said  he,  "you  cannot  find  a  more  beautiful  spot 


212  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

than  this.  The  streams  are  full  of  fish,  the  grazing  is  good, 
the  game  is  plentiful,  and  the  weather  is  fine.  What  more 
could  you  desire  ?  ' ' 

The  Indian  drew  himself  up.  His  face  grew  eager,  and  his 
eyes  were  full  of  longing  as  he  answered,  by  the  interpre- 
ter: 

' '  The  land  to  the  north  and  west  is  the  land  of  plenty. 
There  the  buffalo  grows  larger,  and  his  coat  is  darker.  There 
the  bu-yu  (antelope)  comes  in  droves,  while  here  there  are  but 
few.  There  the  whole  region  is  covered  with  the  short,  curly 
grass  our  ponies  like.  There  grow  the  wild  plums  that  are  good 
for  my  people  in  summer  and  winter.  There  are  the  springs  of 
the  Great  Medicine  Man,  Tel-ya-ki-y.  To  bathe  in  them 
gives  new  life  ;  to  drink  them  cures  every  bodily  ill. 

' '  In  the  mountains  beyond  the  river  of  the  blue  water  there 
is  gold  and  silver,  the  metals  that  the  white  man  loves.  There 
lives  the  eagle,  whose  feathers  the  Indian  must  have  to  make 
his  war-bonnet.  There,  too,  the  sun  shines  always. 

"  It  is  the  Ijis  (heaven)  of  the  red  man.  My  heart  cries 
for  it.  The  hearts  of  my  people  are  not  happy  when  away  from 
the  Eithity  Tugala." 

The  Indian  folded  his  arms  across  his  breast  and  his  eyes 
looked  yearningly  toward  the  country  whose  delights  he  had 
so  vividly  pictured ;  then  he  turned  and  walked  sorrowfully 
away.  The  white  man's  government  shut  him  out  from  the 
possession  of  his  earthly  paradise.  Will  learned  upon  further 
inquiry  that  Bithity  Tugala  was  the  Indian  name  of  the  Big 
Horn  Basin. 

In  the  summer  of  '82  Will's  party  of  exploration  left  the 
cars  at  Cheyenne  and  struck  out  from  this  point  with  horses 
and  pack-mules.  Will's  eyes  becoming  inflamed,  he  was 
obliged  to  bandage  them  and  turn  the  guidance  of  the  party 
over  to  a  man  known  as  "  Reddy."  For  days  he  traveled  in 
a  blinded  state,  and  though  his  eyes  slowly  bettered,  he  did 
not  remove  the  bandage  until  the  Big  Horn  Basin  was 
reached.  They  had  paused  for  the  midday  siesta,  and  Reddy 


LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  213 

inquired  whether  it  would  not  be  safe  to  uncover  the  afflicted 
eyes,  adding  that  he  thought  Will  "  would  enjoy  looking 
around  a  bit." 

Off  came  the  bandage,  and  I  shall  quote  Will's  own  words 
to  describe  the  scene  that  met  his  delighted  gaze  : 

' '  To  my  right  stretched  a  towering  range  of  snow-capped 
mountains,  broken  here  and  there  into  minarets,  obelisks  and 
spires.  Between  me  and  this  range  of  lofty  peaks,  a  long  ir- 
regular line  of  stately  cotton- woods  told  me  a  stream  wound 
its  way  beneath.  The  rainbow-tinted  carpet  under  me  was 
formed  of  innumerable  brilliant-hued  wild  flowers  ;  it  spread 
about  me  in  every  direction,  and  sloped  gracefully  to  the 
stream.  Game  of  every  kind  played  on  the  turf,  and  bright- 
hued  birds  flitted  over  it.  It  was  a  scene  no  mortal  can  satis- 
factorily describe.  At  such  a  moment  a  man,  no  matter  what 
his  creed,  sees  the  hand  of  the  mighty  Maker  of  the  universe 
majestically  displayed  in  the  beauty  of  nature ;  he  becomes 
sensibly  conscious,  too,  of  his  own  littleness.  I  uttered  no  word 
for  very  awe  ;  I  looked  upon  one  of  nature's  master-pieces. 

' '  Instantly  my  heart  went  out  to  my  sorrowful  Arapahoe 
friend  of  1875.  He  had  not  exaggerated;  he  had  scarcely 
done  the  scene  justice.  He  spoke  of  it  as  the  Ijis,  the  heaven  of 
the  red  man.  I  regarded  it  then,  and  I  still  regard  it,  as  the 
Mecca  of  all  appreciative  humanity." 

To  the  west  of  the  Big  Horn  Basin,  Hart  Mountain  rises 
abruptly  from  the  Shoshone  River.  It  is  covered  with  grassy 
slopes  and  deep  ravines  ;  perpendicular  rocks  of  every  hue 
rise  in  various  places  and  are  fringed  with  evergreens.  Be- 
yond this  mountain,  in  the  distance,  towers  the  hoary  head  of 
Table  Mountain.  Five  miles  to  the  southwest  the  mountains 
recede  some  distance  from  the  river,  and  from  its  bank  Castle 
Rock  rises  in  solitary  grandeur.  As  its  name  indicates,  it  has 
the  appearance  of  a  castle,  with  towers,  turrets,  bastions  and 
balconies. 

Grand  as  is  the  western  view,  the  chief  beauty  lies  in  the 
south.  Here  the  Carter  Mountain  lies  along  the  entire  d:s- 


214  LAST   OF  THH   GRSAT    SCOUTS. 

tance  and  the  grassy  spaces  on  its  side  furnish  pasturage  for 
the  deer,  antelope  and  mountain  sheep  that  abound  in  this 
favored  region.  Fine  timber,  too,  grows  on  its  rugged  slopes; 
jagged,  picturesque  rock-forms  are  seen  in  all  directions,  and 
numerous  cold  springs  send  up  their  welcome  nectar. 

It  is  among  the  foothills  nestling  at  the  base  of  this  moun- 
tain that  Will  has  chosen  the  site  of  his  future  permanent  resi- 
dence. Here  there  are  many  little  lakes,  two  of  which  are 
named  Irma  and  Arta,  in  honor  of  his  daughters.  Here  he 
owns  a  ranch  of  forty  thousand  acres,  but  the  home  proper 
will  comprise  a  tract  of  four  hundred  and  eighty  acres.  The 
two  lakes  referred  to  are  in  this  tract,  and  near  them  Will  pro- 
poses to  erect  a  palatial  residence.  To  him,  as  he  has  said,  it 
is  the  Mecca  of  earth,  and  thither  he  hastens  the  moment  he 
is  free  from  duty  and  obligation.  In  that  enchanted  region  he 
forgets  for  a  little  season  the  cares  and  responsibilities  of  life. 

A  curious  legend  is  told  of  one  of  the  lakes  that  lie  on  the 
border  of  this  valley.  It  is  small — half  a  mile  long  and  a 
quarter  wide,  but  its  depth  is  fathomless.  It  is  bordered  and 
shadowed  by  tall  and  stately  pines,  quaking-ash  and  birch 
trees,  and  its  waters  are  pure  and  ice-cold  the  year  round. 
They  are  medicinal,  too,  and  as  yet  almost  unknown  to  white 
men.  Will  heard  the  legend  of  the  lake  from  the  lips  of  an 
old  Cheyenne  warrior. 

" It  was  the  custom  of  my  tribe,"  said  the  Indian,  "to  as- 
semble around  this  lake  once  every  month,  at  the  hour  of 
midnight,  when  the  moon  is  at  its  full.  Soon  after  midnight 
a  canoe  filled  with  the  spectres  of  departed  Cheyenne  warriors 
shot  out  from  the  eastern  side  of  the  lake  and  crossed  rapidly 
to  the  western  border;  there  it  suddenly  disappeared. 

' '  Never  a  word  or  sound  escaped  from  the  spectres  in  the 
canoe.  They  sat  rigid  and  silent,  and  swiftly  plied  their  oars. 
All  attempts  to  get  a  word  from  them  were  in  vain. 

' '  So  plainly  were  the  canoe  and  its  occupants  seen  that  the 
features  of  the  warriors  were  readily  distinguished,  and  rela- 
tives and  friends  were  recognized." 


i«V. 


M 


LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  215 

For  years,  according  to  the  legend,  the  regular  monthly  trip 
was  made,  and  always  from  the  eastern  to  the  western  border 
of  the  lake.  In  1876,  it  suddenly  ceased,  and  the  Indians 
were  much  alarmed.  A  party  of  them  camped  on  the  bank 
of  the  lake,  and  watchers  were  appointed  for  every  night.  It 
was  fancied  that  the  ghostly  boatmen  had  changed  the  date  of 
their  excursion.  But  in  three  months  there  was  no  sign  of 
canoe  or  canoeists,  and  this  was  regarded  as  an  omen  of  evil. 

At  a  council  of  the  medicine  men,  chiefs  and  wiseacres  of 
the  tribe  it  was  decided  that  the  canoeing  trip  had  been  a  sig- 
nal from  the  Great  Spirit ;  the  canoe  had  proceeded  from  east 
to  west — the  course  always  followed  by  the  red  man.  The 
spectres  had  been  sent  from  the  Happy  Hunting  Grounds  to 
indicate  that  the  tribe  should  move  further  west,  and  the  sud- 
den disappearance  of  the  monthly  signal  was  augured  to  mean 
the  extinction  of  the  race. 

Once,  when  Will  was  standing  on  the  border  of  this  lake,  a 
Sioux  warrior  came  up  to  him.  This  man  was  unusually  in- 
telligent and  desired  that  his  children  should  be  educated.  He 
sent  his  two  sons  to  Carlisle,  and  himself  took  great  pains  to 
learn  the  white  man's  religious  beliefs,  though  he  still  clung 
to  his  old  savage  customs  and  superstitions.  A  short  time  be- 
fore he  talked  with  Will  large  companies  of  Indians  had  made 
pilgrimages  to  join  one  large  conclave,  for  the  purpose  of  cel- 
ebrating the  Messiah,  or  "  Ghost  Dance."  Like  all  religious 
celebrations  among  savage  people,  it  was  accompanied  by  the 
grossest  excesses  and  most  revolting  immoralities.  As  it  was 
not  known  what  serious  happening  these  large  gatherings  might 
portend,  the  President,  at  the  request  of  many  people,  sent 
troops  to  disperse  the  Indians.  The  Indians  resisted  and  blood 
was  spilled,  among  the  slain  being  the  sons  of  the  Indian  who 
stood  by  the  side  of  the  haunted  lake. 

"  It  is  written  in  the  Great  Book  of  the  white  man,"  said 
the  old  chief  to  Will,  "that  the  Great  Spirit— the  Nan-tan-in- 
chor — is  to  come  to  him  again  on  earth .  The  white  men  in 
the  big  villages  go  to  their  council-lodges  (churches)  and  talk 


2l6  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

about  the  time  of  his  coming.  Some  say  one  time,  some  say 
another,  but  they  all  know  the  time  will  come,  for  it  is 
written  in  the  Great  Book.  It  is  the  great  and  good  among 
the  white  men  that  go  to  these  council-lodges,  and  those 
that  do  not  go  say,  '  It  is  well ;  we  believe  as  they  be- 
lieve, He  will  come.'  It  is  written  in  the  Great  Book  of  the 
white  man  that  all  the  human  beings  on  earth  are  the  children 
of  the  one  Great  Spirit.  He  provides  and  cares  for  them.  All 
He  asks  in  return  is  that  his  children  obey  him,  that  they  be 
good  to  one  another,  that  they  judge  not  one  another,  and  that 
they  do  not  kill  or  steal.  Have  I  spoken  truly  the  words  of 
the  white  man's  Book  ?  " 

Will  bowed  his  head,  somewhat  surprised  at  the  tone  of  the 
old  chief's  conversation.  The  other  continued  : 

"  The  red  man,  too,  has  a  Great  Book.  You  have  never 
seen  it  ;  no  white  man  has  ever  seen  it,  it  is  hidden  here."  He 
pressed  his  hand  against  his  heart.  "The  teachings  of  the 
two  books  are  the  same.  What  the  Great  Spirit  says  to  the 
white  man,  the  Nan-tan-in-chor  says  to  the  red  man.  We, 
too,  go  to  our  council-lodges  to  talk  of  the  second  com- 
ing. We  have  our  ceremony,  as  the  white  man  has  his.  The 
white  man  is  solemn,  sorrowful  ;  the  red  man  is  happy 
and  glad.  We  dance  and  are  joyful,  and  the  white  man  sends 
soldiers  to  shoot  us  down.  Does  their  Great  Spirit  tell  them 
to  do  this  ? 

"  In  the  big  city  (Washington)  where  I  have  been  there  is 
another  big  book  (the  Federal  Constitution),  which  says  the 
white  man  shall  not  interfere  with  the  religious  liberty  of  an- 
other. And  yet  they  come  out  to  our  country  and  kill  us  when 
we  show  our  joy  to  Nan-tan-in-chor. 

"  We  rejoice  over  his  second  coming,  the  white  man  mourns, 
but  he  sends  his  soldiers  to  kill  us  in  our  rejoicing.  Bah  !  The 
white  man  is  false.  I  return  to  my  people,  and  to  the  customs 
and  habits  of  my  forefathers.  I  am  an  Indian!  " 

The  old  chief  strode  away  with  the  dignity  of  a  red  Caesar 
and  Will,  alone  by  the  lake,  reflected  that  every  question  has 


LAST  OF  THE:  GREAT  SCOUTS.  217 

two  sides  to  it.  The  one  the  red  man  has  held  in  the  case  of 
the  commonwealth  versus  the  Indian  has  ever  been  the  tragic 
side. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  "WILD  WEST  SHOW  " — OPENING  AT 
OMAHA — TOUR  OF  GREAT  BRITAIN — SPECTACULAR  EF- 
FECTS— IN  LONDON — LUNCHEON  IN  HONOR  OF  GLAD- 
STONE— PATRONAGE  OF  ROYALTY — THE  QUEEN'S  SALUTE 
TO  THE  AMERICAN  FLAG — THE  DEADWOOD  COACH — IN- 
DIAN BREAKFASTS — HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

T  was  not  until  the  spring   of 

11883  that  Will  was  able  to  put 
into  execution   his  long-cher- 
jjj  ished  plan,  to  present  to  the 

public    an     exhibition     that 
I**".-..         $&  should    delineate,    in  part    at 

least,  the  wild  life  of  America; 
a  life  that  the  most  of  his 
countrymen  were  as  ignorant 
of  as  the  people  of  Europe. 
Thus  came  into  existence 
"  The  Wild  West  Show,"  and 
the  first  performance  was  held 
at  Omaha,  in  the  state  Will 
had  chosen  for  his  home. 

Of  "  Buffalo  Bill's  Wild  West  Show"  there  is  no  present 
need  of  description.  It  has  visited  nearly  every  large  city  on  the 
civilized  globe,  and  has  been  viewed  by  countless  thousands, 
who  have  pronounced  it  the  most  original  show  in  the  world. 
It  is  peculiarly  a  product  of  the  nineteenth  century  and,  with 
the  name  of  its  originator,  will  long  hold  a  place  in  history. 
As  a  child,  I  wept  and  refused  to  be  comforted  because  of  our 
brother's  persistent  clinging  to  his  show  ideas,  and  his  disre- 
218 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  2 19 

gard  of  the  larger  sphere  predicted  by  the  soothsayer,  but  as  a 
woman  I  rejoice  that  he  was  true  to  his  own  ideals,  for  he 
sits  his  horse  with  a  stately  grace  that's  better  suited  to  the 
saddle  than  to  the  Presidential  chair.  And  to-day,  when  he 
has  seen  the  unfolding  of  every  blossom  of  his  hopes,  when 
the  show  is  an  old  story  to  him,  I  yet  catch  in  his  voice  a  ring 
of  joy  as  he  advances  before  his  great  audiences  and  exclaims: 

' '  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  permit  me  to  introduce  to  you  a 
congress  of  the  rough  riders  of  the  world! ' ' 

From  the  very  beginning  the  show  was  an  immense  success. 
Three  years  were  spent  in  visiting  the  large  cities  of  the  United 
States,  then  Will  conceived  the  idea  of  visiting  England,  and 
exhibiting  to  the  mother  race  the  wild  side  of  the  child's  life. 
This  plan  entailed  enormous  expense,  but  it  was  carried  out 
satisfactorily,  W.  F.  Cody  and  NateSalsbury  forming  a  partner- 
ship in  the  enterprise. 

Still  true  to  the  state  of  his  adoption,  Will  chartered  the 
steamer  State  of  Nebraska,  and  on  March  31,  1886,  a  living 
freight  from  the  picturesque  new  world  began  its  voyage  to 
the  old. 

At  Gravesend,  England,  the  first  sight  to  meet  the  eyes  of 
the  watchers  on  the  steamer  was  a  tug  flying  American  colors. 
Three  ringing  cheers  saluted  the  beautiful  emblem,  and  the 
band  on  the  tug  responded  with  ' '  The  Star-Spangled  Banner. ' ' 
Not  to  be  outdone,  the  cowboy  band  on  the  State  of  Nebraska 
struck  up  ' '  Yankee  Doodle. ' '  The  tug  had  been  chartered 
by  a  company  of  Englishmen,  for  the  purpose  of  welcoming 
the  novel  American  combination  to  British  soil. 

When  the  landing  was  made  the  members  of  the  Wild  West 
company  entered  special  coaches  and  were  whirled  toward  I/>n- 
don.  Then  even  the  stolidity  of  the  Indians  was  not  proof 
against  sights  so  little  resembling  those  to  which  they  had  been 
accustomed,  and  they  showed  their  pleasure  and  appreciation 
by  frequent  repetition  of  the  red  man's  characteristic  grunt. 

Maj.  John  M.  Burke  had  made  the  needed  arrangements  for 
housing  the  big  show,  and  preparations  on  a  gigantic  scale 


220  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

were  rapidly  pushed  to  please  an  impatient  London  public. 
More  effort  was  made  to  produce  spectacular  effects  in  the 
London  amphitheater  than  is  possible  where  a  merely  tempor- 
ary staging  is  erected  for  one  day's  exhibition.  The  arena  was 
a  third  of  a  mile  in  circumference  and  provided  accommodation 
for  forty  thousand  spectators.  The  cost  of  the  London  prepara- 
tions was  $125,000.  Here,  as  at  Manchester,  where  another 
great  amphitheater  was  erected  in  the  fall  to  serve  as  winter 
quarters,  the  artist's  brush  was  called  on  to  furnish  illusions. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  enumerate  the  features  of  a  show  with 
which  the  American  public  is  so  familiar — the  Indian  war- 
dance,  the  bucking  broncho  speedily  subjected  by  the  valorous 
cowboy,  and  the  stage-coach  attacked  by  Indians  and  rescued 
by  United  States  troops.  Besides  these,  an  Indian  village  on 
the  plains  was  presented  to  the  English  public.  The  artist  had 
counterfeited  the  plains  successfully.  It  is  the  hour  of  dawn. 
Scattered  about  the  plains  are  various  wild  animals.  Within 
their  tents  the  Indians  are  sleeping.  Sunrise,  and  a  friendly 
Indian  tribe  comes  to  visit  the  wakening  wariors.  A  friendly 
dance  is  executed,  at  the  close  of  which  a  courier  rushes  in  to 
announce  the  approach  of  a  hostile  tribe.  These  follow  almost 
at  the  courier's  heels,  and  a  sham  battle  occurs,  which  affords 
a  good  idea  of  the  barbarity  of  Indian  warfare.  The  victors 
celebrate  their  triumph  with  a  wild  war  dance. 

A  Puritan  scene  follows.  The  landing  of  the  Pilgrims  is 
shown,  and  the  rescue  of  John  Smith  by  Pocahontas.  This 
affords  opportunity  for  delineating  many  interesting  Indian 
customs  on  festive  celebrations,  such  as  weddings  and  feast 
days. 

Again  the  prairie.  A  buffalo  lick  is  shown.  The  shaggy 
monsters  come  down  to  drink,  and  in  pursuit  of  them  is 
"  Buffalo  Bill,"  mounted  on  his  good  horse  "  Charlie."  He 
has  been  acting  as  guide  for  an  emigrant  party,  which  soon 
appears.  Camp  fires  are  lighted,  supper  is  eaten  and  the  camp 
sinks  into  slumber  with  the  dwindling  of  the  fires.  Then 
comes  a  fine  bit  of  stage  illusion.  A  red  glow  is  seen  in  the 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  221 

distance,  faint  at  first,  but  slowly  deepening  and  broadening. 
It  creeps  along  the  whole  horizon,  and  the  camp  is  awakened 
by  the  alarming  intelligence  that  the  prairie  is  on  fire.  The 
emigrants  rush  out,  and  heroically  seek  to  fight  back  the  rush- 
ing, roaring  flames.  Wild  animals,  driven  by  the  flames,  dash 
through  the  camp,  and  a  stampede  follows.  This  scene  was  ex- 
tremely realistic. 

A  cyclone  was  also  simulated,  and  a  whole  village  blown  out 
of  existence. 

The  Wild  West  Show  was  received  with  enthusiasm,  not 
only  by  the  general  public,  but  by  royalty.  Gladstone  made  a 
call  upon  Will,  in  company  with  the  Marquis  of  Lome,  and, 
in  return,  a  lunch  was  tendered  to  the  "  Grand  Old  Man  "  by 
the  American  visitors.  In  an  after-dinner  speech,  the  English 
statesman  spoke  in  the  warmest  terms  of  America.  He  thanked 
Will  for  the  good  he  was  doing  in  presenting  to  the  English 
public  a  picture  of  the  wild  life  of  the  Western  Continent, 
which  served  to  illustrate  the  difficulties  encountered  by  a 
sister  nation  in  its  onward  march  of  civilization. 

The  initial  performance  was  before  a  royal  party,  comprising 
the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales,  and  suite.  At  the  close  of 
the  exhibition  the  royal  guests,  at  their  own  request,  were  pre- 
sented to  the  members  of  the  company.  Unprepared  for  this 
contingency,  Will  had  forgotten  to  coach  the  performers  in  the 
correct  methods  of  saluting  royalty,  and  when  the  girl  shots 
of  the  company  were  presented  to  the  Princess  of  Wales,  they 
stepped  forward  in  true  democratic  fashion  and  cordially  of- 
fered their  hands  to  the  lovely  woman  who  had  honored  them. 

According  to  English  usage,  the  Princess  extends  the  hand, 
palm  down,  to  favored  guests,  and  these  reverently  touch  the 
finger-tips  and  lift  the  hand  to  their  lips.  Perhaps  the  spon- 
taneity of  the  American  girls'  welcome  was  esteemed  a  pleas- 
ing variety  to  the  established  custom.  At  all  events  Her 
Highness,  true  to  her  breeding,  appeared  not  to  notice  any 
breach  of  etiquette,  but  took  the  proffered  hands  and  shook 
them  cordially. 


222  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

The  Indian  carnp  was  also  visited  and  Red  Shirt,  the  great 
chief,  was,  like  every  one  else,  delighted  with  the  Princess. 
Through  an  interpreter  the  Prince  expressed  his  pleasure  over 
the  performance  of  the  braves,  headed  by  their  great  chief, 
and  the  Princess  bade  him  welcome  to  England.  Red  Shirt 
had  the  Indian  gift  of  oratory  and  he  replied,  in  the  unimpas- 
sioned  speech  for  which  the  race  is  noted,  that  it  made  his 
heart  glad  to  hear  such  kind  words  from  the  Great  White  Chief 
and  his  beautiful  squaw. 

During  the  round  the  Prince  stopped  in  at  Will's  private 
quarters  and  took  much  interest  in  his  souvenirs,  being  espe- 
cially pleased  with  a  magnificent  gold-hilted  sword,  presented 
to  Will  by  officers  of  the  United  States  Army,  in  recognition 
of  his  services  as  scout. 

This  was  not  the  only  time  the  Wild  West  Show  was  hon- 
ored by  the  visit  of  royalty.  That  the  Prince  of  Wales  was 
sincere  in  his  expression  of  enjoyment  of  the  exhibition  was 
evidenced  by  the  report  that  he  carried  to  his  mother,  and 
shortly  afterward  a  command  came  from  Queen  Victoria  that 
the  big  show  appear  before  her.  It  was  plainly  impossible  to 
take  the  Wild  West  to  court;  the  next  best  thing  was  to  con- 
struct a  special  box  for  the  use  of  Her  Majesty.  This  box 
was  placed  upon  a  dais  covered  with  crimson  velvet  trimmings, 
and  was  superbly  decorated.  When  the  Queen  arrived  and 
was  driven  around  to  the  royal  box,  Will  stepped  forward  as 
she  dismounted,  and,  doffing  his  sombrero,  made  a  low  cour- 
tesy to  the  sovereign  lady  of  Great  Britain.  ' '  Welcome,  your 
Majesty,"  said  he,  "  to  the  Wild  West  of  America  !  " 

One  of  the  first  acts  in  the  performance  is  to  carry  the  flag 
to  the  front.  This  is  done  by  a  soldier,  and  is  introduced  to 
the  spectators  as  an  emblem  of  a  nation  desirous  of  peace  and 
friendship  with  all  the  world.  On  this  occasion  it  was  borne 
directly  before  the  Queen's  box  and  dipped  three  times  in 
honor  of  Her  Majesty.  The  action  of  the  Queen  surprised  the 
company  and  the  vast  throng  of  spectators.  Rising,  she 
saluted  the  American  flag  with  a  bow,  and  her  suite  followed 


I,AST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  223 

her  example,  the  gentlemen  removing  their  hats.  Will  ac- 
knowledged the  courtesy  by  waving  his  sombrero  about  his 
head,  and  his  delighted  company  with  one  accord  gave  three 
ringing  cheers  that  made  the  arena  echo,  assuring  the  specta- 
tors of  the  healthy  condition  of  the  lungs  of  the  American 
visitors. 

The  Queen's  complaisance  put  the  entire  company  on  their 
mettle,  and  the  performance  was  given  magnificently.  At  the 
close  Queen  Victoria  asked  to  have  Will  presented  to  her,  and 
paid  him  so  many  compliments  as  almost  to  bring  a  blush  to  his 
bronzed  cheek.  Red  Shirt  was  also  presented,  and  informed 
Her  Majesty  that  he  had  come  across  the  Great  Water  solely 
to  see  her,  and  his  heart  was  glad.  This  polite  speech  dis- 
covered a  streak  in  Indian  nature  that,  properly  cultivated, 
would  fit  the  red  man  to  shine  as  a  courtier  or  politician.  Red 
Shirt  walked  away  with  the  insouciance  of  a  king  dismissing 
an  audience,  and  some  of  the  squaws  came  to  display  papooses 
to  the  Great  White  Lady.  These  children  of  nature  were  not 
the  least  awed  by  the  honor  done  them.  They  blinked  at  Her 
Majesty  as  if  the  presence  of  queens  was  an  incident  of  their 
every-day  existence. 

A  second  command  from  the  Queen  resulted  in  another  exhi- 
bition before  a  number  of  her  royal  guests.  The  Kings  of 
Saxony,  Denmark  and  Greece,  the  Queen  of  the  Belgians,  and 
the  Crown  Prince  of  Austria,  with  others  of  lesser  rank,  illum- 
ined this  occasion. 

The  Deadwood  coach  was  peculiarly  honored.  This  was  a 
coach  with  a  history.  It  was  built  in  Concord,  N.  H.,  and 
sent  to  the  Pacific  Coast  to  run  over  a  trail  infested  by  road 
agents.  A  number  of  times  was  it  held  up  and  the  passengers 
robbed,  and  finally,  both  driver  and  passengers  were  killed 
and  the  coach  abandoned  on  the  trail,  as  no  one  could  be  found 
that  would  undertake  to  drive  it.  It  remained  derelict  for  a 
long  time,  but  was  at  last  brought  into  San  Francisco  by  an 
old  stage-driver,  and  placed  on  the  Overland  trail.  It  gradu- 
ally worked  its  way  eastward  to  the  Deadwood  route,  and  on  this 


224  LAST   OF   THE   GRSAT    SCOUTS. 

line  figured  in  a  number  of  encounters  with  Indians.  Again 
were  driver  and  passengers  massacred,  and  again  was  the 
coach  abandoned.  Will  ran  across  it  on  one  of  his  scouting 
expeditions,  and  recognizing  its  value  as  an  adjunct  to  his 
exhibition,  purchased  it.  Thereafter  the  tragedies  it  figured 
in  were  of  the  mock  variety. 

One  of  the  incidents  of  the  Wild  West  Show,  as  all  remem- 
ber, is  an  Indian  attack  on  the  Deadwood  coach.  The  royal 
visitors  wished  to  put  themselves  in  the  place  of  the  traveling 
public  in  the  Western  regions  of  America,  so  the  four  poten- 
tates of  Denmark,  Saxony,  Greece  and  Austria  became  the 
passengers,  and  the  Prince  of  Wales  sat  on  the  box  with  Will. 
The  Indians  had  been  secretly  instructed  to  "  whoop  'em  up  " 
on  this  interesting  occasion,  and  they  followed  energetically 
the  letter  of  their  instructions.  The  coach  was  surrounded  by 
a  demoniac  band,  and  the  blank  cartridges  were  discharged 
in  such  close  proximity  to  the  coach  windows  that  the  passen- 
gers could  easily  imagine  themselves  to  be  actual  Western 
travelers.  Rumor  hath  it  that  they  sought  refuge  under  the 
seats,  and  probably  no  one  would  blame  them  if  they  did,  but 
it  is  only  rumor,  and  not  history. 

When  the  wild  ride  was  over,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  ad- 
mires the  American  national  game  of  poker,  turned  to  the 
driver  with  the  remark  : 

((  Colonel,  you  never  held  four  kings  like  that  before." 

"  I  have  held  four  kings  more  than  once,"  was  the  prompt 
reply  ;  "  but,  Your  Highness,  I  never  held  four  kings  and  the 
royal  joker  before." 

The  Prince  laughed  heartily ;  but  Will's  sympathy  went 
out  to  him  when  he  found  that  he  was  obliged  to  explain  his 
joke  in  four  different  languages  to  the  passengers. 

In  recognition  of  this  performance,  the  Prince  of  Wales 
sent  Will  a  handsome  souvenir.  It  consisted  of  his  feathered 
crest,  outlined  in  diamonds,  and  bearing  the  motto  "  Ich  dien" 
worked  in  jewels  underneath.  An  accompanying  note  expressed 
the  pleasure  of  the  royal  visitors  over  the  novel  exhibition. 


LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  225 

Upon  another  occasion  the  Princess  of  Wales  visited  the 
show  incognita,  first  advising  Will  of  her  intention,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  performance  assured  him  that  she  had  spent  a  de- 
lightful evening. 

The  set  performances  of  the  Wild  West  were  punctuated  by 
social  entertainments.  James  G.  Elaine,  Chauncey  M.  Depew, 
Murat  Halstead  and  other  prominent  Americans  were  in  Lon- 
don at  the  time,  and  in  their  honor  Will  issued  invitations  to 
a  rib-roast  breakfast  prepared  in  Indian  style.  Fully  one  hun- 
dred guests  gathered  in  the  Wild  West's  dining  tent  at  nine 
o'clock  of  June  10,  1887.  Besides  the  novel  decorations  of 
the  tent,  it  was  interesting  to  watch  the  Indian  cooks  putting 
the  finishing  touches  to  their  roasts.  A  hole  had  been  dug  in 
the  ground,  a  large  tripod  erected  over  it,  and  upon  this  the 
ribs  of  beef  were  suspended.  The  fire  was  of  logs,  burned 
down  to  a  bed  of  glowing  coals,  and  over  these  the  meat  was 
turned  around  and  around  until  it  was  cooked  to  a  nicety. 
This  method  of  open-air  cooking  over  wood  imparts  to  the 
meat  a  flavor  that  can  be  given  to  it  in  no  other  way. 

The  breakfast  was  unconventional.  Part  of  the  bill  of  fare 
was  hominy,  Wild  West  pudding,  popcorn  and  peanuts.  The 
Indians  squatted  on  the  straw  at  the  end  of  the  dining  tables 
and  ate  from  their  fingers,  or  speared  the  meat  with  long 
white  sticks.  The  striking  contrast  of  table  manners  was  an 
interesting  object  lesson  in  the  progress  of  civilization. 

The  breakfast  was  a  novelty  to  the  Americans  who  partook 
of  it,  and  they  enjoyed  it  thoroughly. 

Will  was  made  a  social  lion  during  his  stay  in  L,ondon, 
being  dined  and  feted  upon  various  occasions.  Only  a  man  of 
the  most  rugged  health  could  have  endured  the  strain  of  his 
daily  performances  united  with  his  social  obligations. 

The  London  season  was  triumphantly  closed  with  a  meeting 
for  the  establishing  of  a  court  of  arbitration,  to  settle  disputes 
between  America  and  England. 

After  leaving  the  English  metropolis  the  show  visited  Bir- 
mingham and  thence  proceeded  to  its  winter  headquarters  in 


226  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

Manchester.  Arta,  Will's  elder  daughter,  accompanied  him 
to  England,  and  made  a  continental  tour  during  the  winter. 

The  sojourn  in  Manchester  was  another  ovation.  The 
prominent  men  of  the  city  proposed  to  present  to  Will  a  fine 
rifle,  and  when  the  news  of  the  plan  was  carried  to  London,  a 
company  of  noblemen,  statesmen  and  journalists  ran  down  to 
Manchester  by  special  car.  In  acknowledgment  of  the  honor 
done  him,  Will  issued  invitations  for  another  of  his  unique 
American  entertainments.  Boston  pork  and  beans,  Maryland 
fried  chicken,  hominy  and  popcorn  were  served,  and  there  were 
other  distinctly  American  dishes.  An  Indian  rib-roast  was 
served  on  tin  plates,  and  the  distinguished  guests  enjoyed — or 
said  they  did — the  novelty  of  eating  it  from  their  fingers,  in 
true  aboriginal  fashion.  This  remarkable  meal  evoked  the 
heartiest  of  toasts  to  the  American  flag,  and  a  poem,  a  parody 
on  "  Hiawatha,"  added  luster  to  the  occasion. 

The  Prince  of  Wales  was  Grand  Master  of  the  Free  Masons 
of  England,  which  order  presented  a  gold  watch  to  Will  during 
his  stay  in  Manchester.  The  last  performance  in  this  city  was 
given  on  May  i,  1887,  and  as  a  good-bye  to  Will  the  spectators 
united  in  a  rousing  chorus  of  "  For  he's  a  jolly  good  fellow!" 
The  closing  exhibition  of  the  English  season  occurred  at  Hull, 
and  immediately  afterward  the  company  sailed  for  home  on 
the  Persian  Monarch.  An  immense  crowd  gathered  on  the 
quay,  and  shouted  a  cordial  "bon  voyage."  And  then  the 
Indians  and  cowboys,  anticipating  the  horrors  of  seasickness, 
went  below  and  steeled  themselves  against  a  repetition  of  the 
miseries  of  the  outward  voyage. 

The  return  was  made  memorable  to  Will  by  the  death  of 
"  Old  Charlie,"  of  which  sad  event  Will  gave  the  following 
account  in  a  communication  to  the  American  Agriculturist : 

"My  gallant  and  faithful  horse  Charlie,  who  found  a  grave 
beneath  the  weltering  waves  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  was  twenty 
years  old  at  his  death.  He  was  a  half-blood  Kentucky  horse, 
and  was  bought  for  me  as  a  five-year  old  in  Nebraska.  From 
that  time  he  was  the  constant  and  unfailing  companion  of  my 
life  on  the  Western  plains  and  an  the  'Wild  West '  exhibition. 


LAST   OF  THE    GREAT  SCOUTS.  227 

He  was  an  animal  of  almost  human  intelligence,  extraordinary 
speed,  endurance  and  fidelity.  When  he  was  quite  young 
I  rode  him  on  a  hunt  for  wild  horses,  which  he  ran  down  after 
a  chase  of  fifteen  miles.  At  another  time  on  a  wager  of  five 
hundred  dollars  that  I  could  ride  him  over  the  prairie  one  hun- 
dred miles  in  ten  hours,  he  went  the  distance  in  nine  hours  and 
forty-five  minutes. 

"  When  I  opened  my  '  Wild  West '  show  at  Omaha  in  May, 
1883,  Charlie  was  the  star  horse,  and  held  that  position  at  all 
the  exhibitions  in  this  country  and  in  Europe,  where  I  took  the 
show  in  1887.  In  L,ondou  the  horse  attracted  a  full  share  of 
attention,  and  many  scions  of  royalty  solicited  the  favor  of 
riding  him.  Grand  Duke  Michael  of  Russia  rode  Charlie 
several  times  in  chase  of  my  herd  of  buffaloes  and  became 
quite  attached  to  him.  In  May  last,  the  English  engagement 
having  closed,  we  all  embarked  on  the  Persian  Monarch  at 
Hull  for  New  York.  On  the  morning  of  the  i4th  I  made  my 
usual  visit  to  Charlie  between  decks.  Shortly  after  the  groom 
reported  him  sick,  and  I  found  him  in  a  chill.  He  grew  rapidly 
worse  in  spite  of  all  our  care,  and  at  two  o'clock  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  iyth  he  died.  His  death  cast  an  air  of  sadness  over 
the  whole  ship,  and  a  human  being  could  not  have  had  more 
sincere  mourners  than  the  faithful  and  sagacious  old  horse. 
He  was  brought  on  deck,  wrapped  in  canvas  and  covered  with 
the  American  flag.  When  the  hour  for  the  ocean  burial  ar- 
rived the  members  of  my  company  and  others  assembled  on 
deck.  Standing  alone  with  uncovered  head  beside  the  dead 
was  the  one  whose  life  the  noble  animal  had  shared  so  long. 
&t  length  with  choking  utterance  he  spoke,  and  Charlie,  for 
the  first  time  failed  to  hear  the  familiar  voice  he  had  always 
been  so  prompt  to  obey  : 

"  'Old  fellow,  your  journeys  are  over.  Here  beneath  the 
ocean  billows  you  must  rest.  Would  that  I  could  take  you 
back  and  lay  you  down  beneath  the  verdant  billows  of  that 
prairie  you  and  I  have  loved  so  well  and  roamed  so  freely  ;  but 
it  cannot  be.  How  oft  at  the  most  quiet  hour  have  we  been 
journeying  over  their  trackless  wastes  !  How  oft  at  break  of 
day,  when  the  glorious  sun  rising  on  the  horizon  has  found  us 
far  from  human  habitation,  have  you  reminded  me  of  your  need 
and  mine,  and  with  your  beautiful  ears  bent  forward  and  your 
gentle  neigh  given  voice  as  plainly  as  human  tongue  to  urge 
me  to  prepare  our  morning  meal  !  And  then,  obedient  to  my 
call,  gladly  you  bore  your  burden  on,  little  knowing,  little 


228  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

reckoning  what  the  day  might  bring,  so  that  you  and  I  but 
shared  its  sorrows  and  pleasures  alike.  Nay,  but  for  your 
willing  speed  and  tireless  courage  I  would  many  years  ago  have 
lain  as  low  as  you  are  now,  and  my  Indian  foe  have  claimed 
you  as  his  slave.  Yet  you  have  never  failed  me.  Ah,  Charlie, 
old  fellow,  I  have  had  many  friends,  but  few  of  whom  I  could 
say  that.  Rest, jen tombed  in  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  ! 
May  your  rest  nevermore  be  disturbed.  I'll  never  forget  you. 
I  loved  you  as  you  loved  me,  my  dear  old  Charlie.  Men  tell 
me  you  have  no  soul ;  but  if  there  be  a  heaven,  and  scouts  can 
enter  there,  I'll  wait  at  the  gate  for  you,  old  friend.' 

' '  Whereupon  Charlie  was  allowed  to  slide  gently  down  a  pair 
of  skids  into  the  water.  The  accompanying  engraving  is  a 
lifelike  portrait  of  Charlie  when  at  the  age  of  fifteen  years." 

On  the  homeward  trip  Will  made  the  acquaintance  of  a 
clergyman  returning  from  a  vacation  spent  in  Europe.  When 
they  neared  the  American  coast  this  gentleman  prepared  a 
telegram  to  send  to  his  congregation.  It  read  simply :  "II. 
John,  1-12."  Chancing  to  see  it,  Will's  interest  was  aroused, 
and  he  asked  the  clergyman  to  explain  the  significance  of  the 
reference,  and  when  this  was  done  he  was  delighted. 

"I  have  a  religious  sister  at  home,"  said  he,  "  who  knows 
the  Bible  so  well,  that  I  believe  if  I  were  to  wire  her  that  mes- 
sage she  would  not  need  to  look  up  the  meaning. ' ' 

He  duplicated  to  me,  as  his  return  greeting,  the  minister's 
telegram  to  his  congregation,  but  I  did  not  justify  his  high 
opinion  of  my  Biblical  knowledge.  I  was  obliged  to  search 
the  Scriptures  to  unravel  the  enigma.  How  many  of  my 
readers  are  wise  enough  to  translate  II.  John,  1-12,  without 
recourse  to  the  book  of  books  for  information  ? 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

RETURN  OF  THE  WILD  WEST  SHOW  TO  AMERICA — A  LETTER 
FROM  W.  T.  SHERMAN — THE  SEASON  ON  STATEN  ISLAND 
— AN  INVITATION  TO  LEAD  IN  PRAYER — OFF  FOR  EUROPE 
AGAIN — THE  SOJOURN  IN  PARIS — ROSA  BONHEUR — POPE 
LEO'S  ANNIVERSARY — THE  COWBOYS  SHOW  THE  ITALIANS 
SOME  POINTS  IN  HORSE  TAMING — TOUR  OF  GERMANY. 


HEN  the  Wild  West  show  re- 
turned to  America  from  its  first 
venture  across  seas,  the  sail  up 
the  harbor  was  described  by 
the  New  York  World  in  the 
following  words : 

' '  The  harbor  probably  has 
never  witnessed  a  more  pictur- 
esque scene  than  that  of  yester- 
day, when  the  Persian  Monarch 
steamed  up  from  quarantine. 
Buffalo  Bill  stood  on  the 
captain's  bridge,  his  tall  and 
striking  figure  clearly  outlined, 
and  his  long  hair  waving  in 
the  wind ;  the  gaily-painted 
and  blanketed  Indians  leaned  over  the  ship's  rail ;  the  flags  of 
all  nations  fluttered  from  the  masts  and  connecting  cables. 
The  cowboy  band  played  '  Yankee  Doodle '  with  a  vim  and 
enthusiasm  which  faintly  indicated  the  joy  felt  by  everybody 
connected  with  the  Wild  West,  including  the  musicians,  over 
the  sight  of  home." 

Will  had  been  cordially  welcomed  by  our  English  cousins, 
and  had  been   the  recipient  of  many   social    favors,    but  no 

229 


230  LAST   OF   THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

amount  of  foreign  flattery  could  change  him  one  hair  from  an 
1 '  American  of  the  Americans, ' '  and  he  experienced  a  thrill  of 
delight  as  he  again  stepped  foot  upon  his  native  land.  Shortly 
afterward  he  was  much  pleased  by  a  letter  from  William  T. 
Sherman — so  greatly  prized  that  it  was  framed,  and  now  hangs 
on  the  wall  of  his  Nebraska  home.  Following  is  a  copy: 

"  FIFTH  AVENUE  HOTEL,  New  York. 
"  COLONEL  WM.  F.  CODY  : 

'  'Dear Sir:  In  common  with  all  your  countrymen,  I  want  to  let 
you  know  that  I  am  not  only  gratified,  but  proud  of  your  manage- 
nientand  success.  So  far  asl  can  makeout,  you  have  been  modest, 
graceful  and  dignified  in  all  you  have  done  to  illustrate  the 
history  of  civilization  on  this  continent  during  the  past  cen- 
tur3r.  I  am  especially  pleased  with  the  compliment  paid  you 
by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  rode  with  you  in  the  Deadwood 
coach  while  it  was  attacked  by  Indians  and  rescued  by  cow- 
boys. Such  things  did  occur  in  our  days,  but  they  never  will 
again. 

"  As  nearly  as  I  can  estimate,  there  were  in  1865  about  nine 
and  one-half  million  of  buffaloes  on  the  plains  between  the 
Missouri  River  and  the  Rocky  Mountains;  all  are  now  gone,  killed 
for  their  meat,  their  skins  and  their  bones.  This  seems  like 
desecration,  cruelty  and  murder,  yet  they  have  been  replaced 
by  twice  as  many  cattle.  At  that  date  there  were  about  165,- 
ooo  Pawnees,  Sioux,  Cheyennes  and  Arapahoes,  who  depended 
upon  these  buffaloes  for  their  yearly  food.  They,  too,  have 
gone,  but  they  have  been  replaced  by  twice  or  thrice  as  many 
white  men  and  women,  who  have  made  the  earth  to  blossom 
as  the  rose,  and  who  can  be  counted,  taxed  and  governed  by 
the  laws  of  nature  and  civilization.  This  change  has  been 
salutary,  and  will  go  on  to  the  end.  You  have  caught  one 
epoch  of  this  country's  history,  and  have  illustrated  it  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  modern  world — London,  and  I  want  you  to 
feel  that  on  this  side  of  the  water  we  appreciate  it. 

"  This  drama  must  end;  days,  years  and  centuries  follow  fast; 
even  the  drama  of  civilization  must  have  an  end.  All  I  aim 
to  accomplish  on  this  sheet  of  paper  is  to  assure  you  that  I 
fully  recognize  your  work.  The  presence  of  the  Queen,  the 
beautiful  Princess  of  Wales,  the  Prince,  and  the  British  public, 
are  marks  of  favor  which  reflect  back  on  America  sparks  of 
light,  which  illuminate  many  a  house  and  cabin  in  the  land 


tAST  OK  THE  GRKAT    SCOUTS.  231 

where  once  you  guided  me  honestly  and  faithfully,  in  1865- 
'66,  from  Fort  Riley  to  Kearney,  in  Kansas  and  Nebraska. 

Sincerely  your  friend, 

W.  T.  SHERMAN." 

Having  demonstrated  to  his  satisfaction  that  the  largest 
measure  of  success  lay  in  a  stationary  exhibition  of  his  show, 
where  the  population  was  large  enough  to  warrant  it,  Will 
purchased  a  tract  of  land  on  Staten  Island,  and  here  he  landed 
on  his  return  from  England.  Teamsters  for  miles  around  had 
been  engaged  to  transport  the  outfit  across  the  island  to  Eras- 
tina,  the  site  chosen  for  the  exhibition.  And  you  may  be  cer- 
tain that  Cut  Meat,  American  Bear,  Flat  Iron  and  the  other 
Indians  furnished  unlimited  joy  to  the  ubiquitous  small  boy, 
who  was  present  by  the  hundreds  to  watch  the  unloading 
scenes. 

The  summer  season  at  this  point  was  a  great  success.  One 
incident  connected  with  it  may  be  worth  the  relating. 

Teachers  everywhere  have  recognized  the  value  of  the 
Wild  West  Show  as  an  educator,  and  in  a  number  of  instances 
public  schools  have  been  dismissed  to  afford  the  children  an 
opportunity  of  attending  the  entertainment.  It  has  not,  how- 
ever, been  generally  recognized  as  a  spur  to  religious  progress, 
yet,  while  at  Staten  Island,  Will  was  invited  to  exhibit  a  band 
of  his  Indians  at  a  missionary  meeting  given  under  the 
auspices  of  a  large  mission  Sunday  school.  He  appeared  with 
his  warriors,  who  were  expected  to  give  one  of  their  religious 
dances  as  an  object  lesson  in  devotional  ceremonials. 

The  meeting  was  largely  attended,  and  every  one,  children 
especially,  waited  for  the  exercises  in  excited  curiosity  and 
interest.  Will  sat  on  the  platform  with  the  superintendent, 
pastor  and  others  in  authority,  and  close  by  sat  the  band  of 
stolid-faced  Indians. 

The  service  began  with  a  hymn  and  the  reading  of  the  Scrip- 
tures; then,  to  Will's  horror,  the  superintendent  requested 
him  to  lead  the  meeting  in  prayer.  Perhaps  the  good  man 
fancied  that  Will  for  a  score  of  years  had  fought  Indians  with 


232  LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

a  rifle  in  one  hand  and  a  prayer-book  in  the  other,  and  was  as 
prepared  to  pray  as  to  shoot.  At  least  he  surely  did  not  make 
his  request  with  the  thought  of  embarrassing  Will,  though  that 
was  the  natural  result.  However,  Will  held  holy  things  in 
deepest  reverence ;  he  had  the  spirit  of  gospel  if  not  the  letter, 
so,  rising,  he  quietly  and  simply,  with  bowed  head,  re- 
peated the  lord's  Prayer. 

A  winter  exhibition  under  roof  was  given  in  New  York, 
after  which  the  show  made  a  tour  of  the  principal  cities  of  the 
United  States.  Thus  passed  several  years,  and  then  arrange- 
ments were  made  for  a  grand  Continental  trip.  A  plan  had 
been  maturing  in  Will's  mind  ever  since  the  British  sea- 
son, and  in  the  spring  of  '89  it  was  carried  into  effect. 

The  steamer  Persian  Monarch  was  again  chartered,  and  this 
time  its  prow  was  turned  toward  the  shores  of  France.  Paris 
was  the  destination,  and  seven  months  were  passed  in  the  gay 
capital.  The  Parisians  received  the  show  with  as  much  en- 
thusiasm as  did  the  Londoners,  and  in  Paris,  as  well  as  in  the 
English  metropolis,  everything  American  became  a  fad  during 
the  stay  of  the  Wild  West.  Even  American  books  were  read 
— a  crucial  test  of  faddism — and  American  curios  were  displayed 
in  all  the  shops.  Relics  from  American  plain  and  mountain — 
buffalo  robes,  bearskins,  buckskin  suits  embroidered  with 
porcupine  quills,  Indian  blankets,  woven  mats,  bows  and 
arrows,  bead-mats,  Mexican  bridles  and  saddles — sold  like  the 
proverbial  hot  cakes. 

In  Paris,  also,  Will  became  a  social  favorite,  and  had  he  ac- 
cepted a  tenth  of  the  invitations  to  receptions,  dinners  and 
balls  showered  upon  him,  he  would  have  been  obliged  to  close 
his  show. 

While  in  this  city  Will  accepted  an  invitation  from  Rosa 
Bonheur  to  visit  her  at  her  superb  chateau,  and  in  return  for 
the  honor  he  extended  to  her  the  freedom  of  his  stables,  which 
contained  magnificent  horses  used  for  transportation  purposes, 
and  which  never  appeared  in  the  public  performance — Per- 
cherons  of  the  breed  depicted  by  the  famous  artist  in  her  well- 


LAST  OF  THB  GREAT"    SCOUTS.  £33 

known  painting  of  ' '  The  Horse  Fair. ' '  Day  upon  day  she 
visited  the  camp  and  made  studies,  and  as  a  token  of  her  ap- 
preciation of  the  courtesy,  painted  a  picture  of  Will  mounted 
on  his  favorite  horse,  both  horse  and  rider  bedecked  with 
frontier  paraphernalia.  This  souvenir,  which  holds  the  place 
of  honor  in  his  collection,  he  immediately  shipped  home. 

The  wife  of  a  I^ondon  embassy  attache  relates  the  following 
story  : 

"  During  the  time  that  Colonel  Cody  was  making  his  tri- 
umphant tour  of  Europe,  I  was  one  night  seated  at  a  banquet 
next  to  the  Belgian  Consul.  Early  in  the  course  of  the  con- 
versation he  asked  : 

"  *'  Madame,  you  haf  undoubted  been  to  see  ze  gr-rand  Bouf- 
faloBeel?' 

"  Puzzled  by  the  apparently  unfamiliar  name,  I  asked  : 

' '  '  Pardon  me,  but  whom  did  you  say  ?  ' 

11  '  Vy,  Bouf-falo  Beel,  ze  famous  Bouf-falo  Beel,  zat  gr-reat 
countryman  of  yours.  You  must  know  him.' 

"  After  a  moment's  thought,  I  recognized  the  well-known 
showman's  name  in  its  disguise.  I  comprehended  that  the 
good  Belgian  thought  his  to  be  one  of  America's  most  eminent 
names,  to  be  mentioned  in  the  same  breath  with  Washington 
and  Lincoln. ' ' 

After  leaving  Paris  a  short  tour  of  Southern  France  was 
made,  and  at  Marseilles  a  vessel  was  chartered  to  transport  the 
company  to  Spain.  The  Spanish  grandees  eschewed  their 
favorite  amusement — the  bull-fight — long  enough  to  give  a 
hearty  welcome  to  the  Wild  West.  Next  followed  a  tour  of 
Italy,  and  the  visit  to  Rome  was  the  most  interesting  of  the 
experiences  in  this  country. 

The  Americans  reached  the  Eternal  City  at  the  time  of  Pope 
Leo's  anniversary  celebration  and,  on  the  Pope's  invitation, 
Will  visited  the  Vatican.  Its  historic  walls  have  rarely,  if 
ever,  looked  upon  a  more  curious  sight  than  was  presented 
when  Will  walked  in  followed  by  the  cowboys  in  their  buck- 
skins and  sombreros,  and  the  Indians  in  war-paint  and  feathers. 


$34  tAST   OF  TH£   GRKAT    SCOUTS. 

Around  them  crowded  a  motley  throng  of  Italians,  clad  in  the 
brilliant  colors  so  loved  by  these  children  of  the  south,  and 
nearly  every  nationality  was  represented  in  the  assemblage. 

Some  of  the  cowboys  and  Indians  had  been  reared  in  the 
Catholic  faith,  and  when  the  Pope  appeared  they  knelt  for  his 
blessing.  He  seemed  touched  by  this  action  on  the  part  of 
those  whom  he  might  be  disposed  to  regard  as  savages,  and, 
bending  forward,  extended  his  hands  and  pronounced  a  benedic- 
tion ;  then  he  passed  on,  and  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  the  Indians  were  restrained  from  expressing  their  emotions 
in  a  wild  whoop.  This,  no  doubt,  would  have  relieved  them, 
but  it  would,  in  all  probability,  have  stampeded  the  crowd. 

When  the  Pope  reached  Will  he  looked  admiringly  upon  the 
frontiersman.  The  world-known  scout  bent  his  head  before 
the  aged  ''Medicine  Man,"  as  the  Indians  call  his  Reverence, 
the  Papal  blessing  was  again  bestowed,  and  the  procession 
passed  on.  The  Thanksgiving  Mass,  with  its  fine  choral  ac- 
companiment, was  given,  and  the  vast  concourse  of  people 
poured  out  of  the  building. 

This  visit  attracted  much  attention,  and  many  were  the  news- 
paper accounts  of  it.  The  following  verses  are  worthy  of  reprint: 

BUFFALO  BILL  AND  THE  ROMANS. 

"  I  '11  take  my  stalwart  Indian  braves 

Down  to  the  Coliseum, 
And  the  old  Romans  from  their  graves 

Will  all  arise  to  see  'em. 
Praetors  and  censors  will  return 

And  hasten  through  the  Forum ; 
The  ghostly  Senate  will  adjourn, 

Because  it  lacks  a  quorum. 

"  And  up  the  ancient  Appian  Way 

Will  flock  the  ghostly  legions ; 
From  Gaul  unto  Calabria, 

And  from  remoter  regions  ; 
From  British  bay  and  wild  lagoon, 

And  Libyan  desert  sandy, 
They'll  all  come  marching  to  the  tune 

Of  '  Yankee  Doodle  Dandy. ' 


LAST  OF   THE   GREAT  SCOUTS.  235 

"Prepare  triumphal  cars  for  me, 

And  purple  thrones  to  sit  on, 
For  I've  done  more  than  Julius  C., 

He  could  not  down  the  Briton ! 
Csesar  and  Cicero  shall  bow, 

And  ancient  warriors  famous, 
Before  the  myrtle-wreathed  brow 

Of  Buffalo  Williamus. 


We  march,  unwhipped,  through  history — 

No  bulwark  can  detain  us — 
And  link  the  age  of  Grover  C. 

And  Scipio  Africanus. 
I'll  take  my  stalwart  Indian  braves 

Down  to  the  Coliseum, 
And  the  old  Romans  from  their  graves 

Will  all  arise  to  see  'em." 


It  may  be  mentioned  in  passing  that  Will  had  visited  the 
Coliseum  with  an  eye  to  securing  it  as  an  amphitheater  for  the 
Wild  West  exhibition,  but  the  historic  ruin  was  too  dilapi- 
dated to  be  a  safe  arena  for  such  a  purpose  and  the  idea  was 
abandoned. 

The  sojourn  in  Rome  was  enlivened  by  an  incident  that 
created  much  interest  among  the  natives.  The  Italians  were 
somewhat  skeptical  as  to  the  abilities  of  the  cowboys  to  tame 
wild  horses,  believing  the  bronchos  in  the  show  were  specially 
trained  for  their  work,  and  that  the  horse-breaking  was  a  mock 
exhibition. 

The  Prince  of  Serrnonetta  declared  that  he  had  some  wild 
horses  in  his  stud  which  no  cowboys  in  the  world  could  ride. 
The  challenge  was  promptly  taken  up  by  the  daring  riders  of 
the  plains,  and  the  Prince  sent  for  his  wild  steeds.  That  they 
might  not  run  amuck  and  injure  the  spectators,  specially  pre- 
pared booths  of  great  strength  were  erected.  The  greatest  in- 
terest and  enthusiasm  were  manifested  by  the  populace,  and  the 
death  of  two  or  three  members  of  the  company  was  as  confi- 
dently looked  for  as  was  the  demise  of  sundry  gladiators  iu  the 
"  brave  days  of  old." 


236  LAST  OF  THE    GREAT   SCOUTS. 

But  the  cowboys  laughed  at  so  great  a  fuss  over  so  small  a 
matter,  and  when  the  horses  were  driven  into  the  arena,  and 
the  spectators  held  their  breath,  the  cowboys,  lassoes  in  hand, 
awaited  the  work  with  the  utmost  nonchalance. 

The  wild  equines  sprang  into  the  air,  darted  hither  and 
thither,  and  fought  hard  against  their  certain  fate,  but  in  less 
time  than  would  be  required  to  give  the  details,  the  cowboys 
had  flung  their  lassoes,  caught  the  horses,  and  saddled  and 
mounted  them.  The  spirited  beasts  still  resisted  and  sought 
in  every  way  to  throw  their  riders,  but  the  experienced  plains- 
men had  them  under  control  in  a  very  short  time,  and  as  they 
rode  them  around  the  arena  the  spectators  rose  and  howled 
with  delight.  The  display  of  horsemanship  effectually  silenced 
the  skeptics.  It  captured  the  Roman  heart,  and  the  remainder 
of  the  stay  in  the  city  was  attended  by  unusual  enthusiasm. 

Beautiful  Florence,  practical  Bologna,  and  stately  Milan, 
with  its  many-spired  cathedral,  were  next  on  the  list  for  the 
triumphal  march.  For  the  Venetian  public  the  exhibition  had 
to  be  given  at  Verona,  in  the  historic  amphitheater  built  by 
Diocletian,  A.D.  290.  This  is  the  largest  building  in  the 
world,  and  within  the  walls  of  this  representative  of  old-world 
civilization  the  difficulties  over  which  new-world  civilization 
had  triumphed  were  portrayed.  Here  met  the  old  and  the 
new;  hoary  antiquity  and  bounding  youth  kissed  each  other 
under  the  sunny  Italian  skies. 

The  Wild  West  now  moved  northward,  through  the  Tyrol 
to  Munich,  and  from  here  the  Americans  digressed  for  an  ex- 
cursion on  the  ''beautiful  blue  Danube."  Then  followed  a 
successful  tour  of  Germany. 

During  this  continental  circuit  Will's  elder  daughter,  Arta, 
who  had  accompanied  him  on  his  British  expedition,  was  mar- 
ried. It  was  impossible  for  the  father  to  be  present,  but  by 
cablegram  he  sent  his  congratulations  and  a  check  for  five 
thousand  dollars,  which  arrived  just  as  the  wedding  pair  ad- 
vanced to  take  their  solemn  vows. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

RETURN  TO  AMERICA — THE  SIOUX  UPRISING  OF  '91 — INFLU- 
ENCE EXERTED  OVER  THE  INDIANS  BY  THE  W^LD  WEST 
SHOW — WILL'S  OPINION  OF  GENERAL  MILES — BANQUET 
IN  HONOR  OF  THE  GENERAL — BURNING  OF  * '  WELCOME 

WIGWAM" — BACK  TO  EUROPE — END  OF  THE  FOREIGN 
TOUR. 

N  view  of  the  success  achieved 
by  my  brother  in  every  walk 
of  life  he  set  foot  on,  it  is  re- 
markable that  he  excited  so 
little  envy.  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  felt  the  breath  of 
slander  on  his  cheek,  and  it 
flushed  hotly.  From  an  idle 
remark,  that  the  Indians  in  the 
Wild  West  Show  were  not 
properly  treated,  the  idle  gossip 
grew  to  the  proportion  of 
malicious  and  insistent  slander. 
The  Indians  being  government 

wards,  such  a  charge  might  easily  become  a  serious  matter;  for 
like  the  man  that  beat  his  wife,  the  government  believes  it  has 
the  right  to  maltreat  the  red  man  to  the  top  of  its  bent,  but 
that  no  one  else  shall  be  allowed  to  do  so. 

A  winter  campaign  of  the  Wild  West  had  been  contemplated; 
but  the  project  was  abandoned  and  winter  quarters  decided  on. 
In  the  quaint  little  village  of  Benfield  was  an  ancient  nunnery 
and  a  castle  with  good  stables.  Here  Will  left  the  company 

237 


238  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

in  charge  of  his  partner,  Mr.  Nate  Salsbury,  and,  accompanied 
by  the  Indians  for  whose  welfare  he  was  responsible,  set  sail 
for  America  to  silence  his  calumniators. 

The  testimony  of  the  red  men  themselves  was  all  that  was 
required  to  refute  the  notorious  untruths.  Few  had  placed 
any  belief  in  the  reports,  and  friendly  commentors  were  also 
active.  When  Will's  intended  return  to  America  was  noised 
about,  the  following  tribute  appeared  in  a  Duluth  paper : 

COLUMBIA  TO  BUFFALO  BILL. 

Far  away,  far  away,  over  the  seas, 
Teaching  with  warriors  the  beauty  of  peace  ; 
Where  civilization  and  savagery  blend, 
Showing  that  dark  man  and  fair  may  be  friend ; 
Courted  and  petted  and  honored  each  day, 
By  countries  that  bowed  not  to  Bonaparte's  sway — 
Come  to  America,  'tis  your  home  still — 
Come  back,  my  rover  boy,  Buffalo  Bill ! 

Up  from  the  now  placid  plains  comes  a  sigh, 

Echoed  by  mountains  that  kiss  the  blue  sky, 

Echoed  by  cities  that  grew  in  the  path 

Of  the  red  men  you  quelled  when  they  yelled  in  their  wrath. 

Bear  it,  thou  wind  of  the  far  western  sea, 

The  sigh  from  my  breast  with  this  message  from  me : 

Come  to  Columbia,  who  dotes  on   thee  still — 

Come  back,  my  gallant  son,  Buffalo  Bill ! 


As  the  sequel  proved,  Will  came  home  very  opportunely. 
The  Sioux  in  Dakota  were  again  on  the  war-path,  and  his  help 
was  needed  to  subdue  the  uprising.  He  disbanded  the  warriors 
he  had  brought  back  from  Kurope,  and  each  returned  to  his 
own  tribe  and  people,  to  narrate  around  the  camp-fire  the  won- 
ders of  the  life  abroad,  while  Will  reported  at  headquarters  to 
offer  his  services  for  the  war.  Two  years  previous  he  had 
been  honored  by  the  commission  of  Brigadier-General  of  the 
Nebraska  National  Guard,  which  rank  and  title  was  given  to 
him  by  Governor  Thayer. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOWS.  239 

The  officer  in  command  of  the  Indian  campaign  was  General 
Nelson  A.  Miles,  who  has  rendered  so  many  important  services 
to  his  country,  and  who,  as  Commander-in-Chief  of  our  army, 
played  so  large  a  part  in  the  recent  war  with  Spain.  At  the 
time  of  the  Indian  uprising  he  held  the  rank  of  Brigadier- 
General. 

This  brilliant  and  able  officer  was  much  pleased  when  he 
learned  that  he  would  have  Will's  assistance  in  conducting  the 
campaign,  for  he  knew  the  value  of  his  good  judgment,  cool 
head  and  executive  ability,  and  of  his  large  experience  in  deal- 
ing with  Indians. 

The  Wild  West,  which  had  served  as  an  educator  to  the 
people  of  Europe  in  presenting  the  frontier  life  of  America, 
had  quietly  worked  as  important  educational  influences 
in  the  minds  of  the  Indians  connected  with  the  show.  They 
had  seen  for  themselves  the  wonders  of  the  world's  civi- 
lization; they  realized  how  futile  were  the  efforts  of  the  chil- 
dren of  the  plains  to  stem  the  resistless  tide  of  progress  flow- 
ing westward.  Potentates  had  delighted  to  do  honor  to  Pa-has- 
ka,  the  lyong-Haired  Chief,  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  simple 
savage  he  was  as  powerful  as  any  of  the  great  ones  of  earth. 
To  him  his  word  was  law;  it  seemed  worse  than  folly  for  their 
brethren  to  attempt  to  cope  with  so  mighty  a  chief,  therefore, 
their  influence  was  all  for  peace,  and  the  fact  that  so  many 
tribes  did  not  join  in  the  uprising  may  be  attributed,  in  part, 
to  their  good  counsel  and  advice. 

General  Miles  was  both  able  and  energetic,  and  managed  the 
campaign  in  masterly  fashion.  There  were  one  or  two  hard 
fought  battles,  in  one  of  which  the  great  Sioux  warrior,  Sit- 
ting Bull,  the  ablest  that  nation  ever  produced,  was  slain. 
This  Indian  had  traveled  with  Will  for  a  time,  but  could  not 
be  weaned  from  his  loyalty  to  his  own  tribe  and  a  desire  to 
avenge  upon  the  white  man  the  wrongs  inflicted  on  his  people. 

What  promised  at  the  outset  to  be  a  long  and  cruel  frontier 
war, was  speedily  quelled.  The  death  of  Sitting  Bull  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  the  termination  of  hostilities.  Arrangements 


240  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

for  peace  were  soon  perfected,  and  Will  attributed  the  govern- 
ment's success  to  the  energy  of  its  officer  in  command,  for  whom 
he  has  a  most  enthusiastic  admiration.  He  paid  this  tribute  to 
him  recently  : 

1 '  I  have  been  in  many  campaigns  with  General  Miles,  and 
a  better  general  and  more  gifted  warrior  I  have  never  seen.  I 
served  in  the  Civil  War,  and  in  any  number  of  Indian  wars,  I 
have  been  under  at  least  a  dozen  generals,  with  whom  I  have 
been  thrown  in  close  contact  because  of  the  nature  of  the  ser- 
vices which  I  was  called  upon  to  render.  General  Miles  is  the 
peer  of  them  all. 

"I  have  known  Phil  Sheridan,  Tecumseh  Sherman,  Hancock 
and  all  of  our  noted  Indian  fighters.  For  cool  judgment,  and 
thorough  knowledge  of  all  that  pertains  to  military  affairs,  none 
of  them,  in  my  opinion,  can  be  said  to  excel  General  Nelson  A. 
Miles. 

"Ah,  what  a  man  he  is  !  I  know.  We  have  been  shoulder  to 
shoulder  in  many  a  hard  march.  We  have  been  together  when 
men  find  out  what  their  comrades  really  are.  He  is  a  man, 
every  inch  of  him,  and  the  best  general  I  ever  served  under. ' ' 

After  Miles  was  put  in  command  of  the  forces  a  dinner  was 
given  in  his  honor  by  John  Chamberlin.  Will  was  a  guest 
and  one  of  the  speakers,  and  took  the  opportunity  to  eulogize 
his  old  friend.  He  dwelt  at  length  on  the  respect  in  which  the 
red  men  held  the  general,  and  in  closing  said  : 

' '  No  foreign  invader  will  ever  set  foot  on  these  shores  as 
I  long  as  General  Miles  is  at  the  head  of  the  army.  If  they 
j  should — just  call  on  me  !  " 

The  speaker  sat  down  amid  laughter  and  applause. 

While  Will  was  away  at  the  seat  of  war,  his  beautiful  home 
in  North  Platte — "  Welcome  Wigwam" — burned  to  the 
ground.  The  little  city  is  not  equipped  with  much  of  a  fire 
department,  but  a  volunteer  brigade  held  the  flames  in  check 
long  enough  to  save  almost  the  entire  contents  of  the  house, 
among  which  were  many  valuable  and  costly  souvenirs  that  could 
never  be  replaced. 


.  •- ;-         i 

m- 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  241 

Will  received  a  telegram  announcing  that  his  house  was 
ablaze,  and  his  reply  was  characteristic  : 

11  Save  Rosa  Bonheur*  s  picture  and  the  house  may  go  to 
blazes." 

When  the  frontier  war  was  ended  and  the  troops  disbanded 
Will  made  application  for  another  company  of  Indians  to  take 
back  to  Europe  with  him.  Permission  was  obtained  from  the 
government,  and  the  contingent  from  the  friendly  tribes  was 
headed  by  chiefs  named  Long  Wolf,  No  Neck,  Yankton 
Charlie  and  Black  Heart.  In  addition  to  these  a  company  was 
recruited  from  among  the  Indians  held  as  hostages  by  General 
Miles  at  Fort  Sheridan,  and  the  leaders  of  these  hostile  braves 
were  such  noted  chiefs  as  Short  Bull,  Kicking  Bear,  L,oneBull, 
Scatter  and  Revenge.  To  these  the  trip  to  Alsace-I^orraine 
was  a  revelation,  a  fairy  tale  more  wonderful  than  anything 
in  their  legendary  lore.  The  ocean  voyage,  with  its  seasick- 
ness, put  them  in  an  ugly  mood,  but  the  sight  of  the  encamp- 
ment and  the  cowboys  dissipated  their  sullenness,  and  they 
shortly  felt  at  home.  The  hospitality  extended  tt>  all  the 
members  of  the  company  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  village 
in  which  they  wintered  was  most  cordial,  and  left  them  the 
pleasautest  of  memories. 

Will's  knowledge  of  Indian  nature  stands  him  in  good  stead 
when  he  desires  to  select  the  quota  of  Indians  for  the  summer 
season  of  the  Wild  West.  He  sends  word  ahead  to  the  tribe 
or  reservation  which  he  intends  to  visit.  The  red  men  have  all 
heard  of  the  wonders  of  the  great  show,  they  are  more  than 
ready  to  share  in  the  delights  of  travel,  and  they  gather  at  the 
appointed  place  in  great  numbers. 

Will  stands  on  a  temporary  platform  in  the  centre  of  the 
group.  He  looks  around  upon  the  swarthy  faces,  glowing 
with  all  the  eagerness  which  the  stolid  Indian  nature  will  per- 
mit them  to  display.  It  is  not  always  the  tallest  nor  the  most 
comely  men  who  are  selected.  The  unerring  judgment  of  the 
scout,  trained  in  Indian  warfare,  tells  him  who  may  be  relied 
upon  and  who  are  untrustworthy,  A  face  arrests  his  attention; 


242  LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

with  a  motion  of  his  hand  he  indicates  the  brave  whom  he  has 
selected;  another  wave  of  the  hand  and  the  fate  of  a  second 
warrior  is  settled.  Hardly  a  word  is  spoken,  and  it  is  only  a 
matter  of  a  few  moments'  time  before  he  is  ready  to  step  down 
from  his  exalted  position  and  walk  off  with  his  full  contingent 
of  warriors  following  happily  in  his  wake. 

An  extended  tour  of  Europe  was  fittingly  closed  by  a  brief 
visit  to  England.  The  Britons  gave  the  Wild  West  as  hearty 
a  welcome  as  if  it  were  native  to  their  heath.  A  number  of 
the  larger  cities  were  visited,  L,ondon  being  reserved  for  the 
last. 

Royalty  again  honored  the  show  by  its  attendance,  the 
Queen  requesting  a  special  performance  on  the  grounds  of 
Windsor  Castle.  The  requests  of  the  Queen  are  equivalent  to 
commands,  and  the  entertainment  was  duly  given.  Asa  token 
of  her  appreciation  the  Queen  bestowed  upon  Will  a  costly  and 
beautiful  souvenir. 

Not  the  least  esteemed  remembrance  of  this  I^ondon  visit  was 
an  illuminated  address  presented  by  the  English  Working- 
man's  Convention.  In  it  the  American  plainsman  was  con- 
gratulated upon  the  honors  he  had  won,  the  success  he  had 
achieved,  and  the  educational  worth  of  the  great  show.  A 
banquet  followed,  at  which  Will  presented  an  autograph 
photograph  to  each  member  of  the  association. 

Notwithstanding  tender  thoughts  of  home,  English  soil  was 
left  regretfully.  To  the  Wild  West  show  the  complacent 
Briton  had  extended  a  cordial  welcome,  and  manifested  an 
enthusiasm  that  contrasted  strangely  with  his  usual  disdain  for 
things  American. 

A  singular  coincidence  of  the  homeward  voyage  was  the 
death  of  Billy,  another  favorite  horse  of  Will's,  who  gave  up 
existence  just  at  the  moment  of  landing. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


A  THOUSAND  MILES  IN  THE  SADDLE   WITH    '    BUFFALO 

"THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  GODS" — PREPARATIONS  FOR 
WORLD'S  FAIR — "THE  CONGRESS  OF  ROUGH  RIDERS" — 

NEWSPAPER  ENTERPRISE  IN  DULUTH — CODY  SANATORIUM. 

UROPEAN  army  officers  of  all 
nationalities  regarded  my 
brother  with  admiring  interest. 
To  German,  French,  Italian, 
or  British  eyes,  he  was  a  com- 
manding personality,  and  also 
the  representative  of  a  peculiar 
and  interesting  phase  of  new- 
world  life.  Recalling  their  in- 
terest in  his  scenes  from  his 
native  land,  so  unlike  anything 
to  be  found  in  Europe  to-day, 
Will  invited  a  number  of  these 
officers  to  accompany  him  on 
an  extended  hunting  trip  through  Western  America. 

All  that  could  possibly  do  so  accepted  the  invitation.  A 
date  was  set  for  them  to  reach  Chicago,  and  from  there 
arrangements  were  made  for  a  special  train  to  convey  them  to 
Nebraska. 

When  the  party  gathered  several  prominent  Americans  were 
of  the  number.  By  General  Miles' s  order  a  military  escort 
attended  them  from  Chicago,  as  he  wished  to  honor  the  visit- 
ors from  foreign  lands,  and  the  native  soldiery  remained  with 
them  until  North  Platte  was  reached. 

A  new  and  handsome  residence  had  been  erected  by  Will  to 
take  the  place  of  the  one  burned  the  preceding  year,  but  the 

243 


244  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

party  proceeded  to  "Scout's  Rest  Ranch,"  where  they  were 
hospitably  entertained  for  a  couple  of  days  before  starting  out 
on  their  long  trail. 

At  Denver  ammunition  and  supplies  were  taken  on  board 
the  train.  A  French  chef  was  also  engaged,  as  Will  feared 
his  distinguished  guests  might  not  enjoy  camp  fare.  But  a 
hen  in  water  is  no  more  out  of  place  than  a  French  cook  on  a 
1 '  roughing  it ' '  trip.  Frontier  cooks,  who  understand  primi- 
tive methods,  make  no  attempt  at  a  fashionable  cuisine,  and 
the  appetites  developed  by  open-air  life  are  equal  to  the  rudest, 
most  substantial  fare.  - 

Colorado  Springs,  the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  and  other  places 
in  Colorado  were  visited.  The  foreign  visitors  had  heard 
stories  of  this  wonderland  of  America,  but,  like  all  of  nature's 
masterpieces,  the  rugged  beauties  of  this  magnificent  region 
defy  an  adequate  description.  Only  one  who  has  seen  the  love- 
liness of  a  sunrise  on  the  Alps  can  appreciate  it.  The  storied 
Rhine  is  naught  but  a  story  to  him  who  has  never  looked  upon 
it.  Niagara  is  only  a  waterfall  until  seen  from  various  view- 
points and  its  tremendous  force  and  transcendent  beauty  are 
strikingly  revealed.  The  same  is  true  of  the  glorious  wildness 
of  our  Western  scenery ;  it  must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated. 

The  most  beautiful  thing  about  the  Garden  of  the  Gods  is 
the  entrance  known  as  the  Gateway.  Color  here  runs  riot. 
The  mass  of  rock  in  the  foreground  is  white,  and  stands  out  in 
sharp  contrast  to  the  rich  red  of  the  sandstone  of  the  portals, 
which  rise  on  either  side  to  a  height  of  three  hundred  feet. 
Through  these  giant  portals,  which  in  the  sunlight  glow  with 
ruddy  fire,  is  seen  mass  upon  mass  of  gorgeous  color,  rendered 
more  striking  by  the  dazzling  whiteness  of  Pike's  Peak,  which 
soars  upward  in  the  distance,  a  hoary  sentinel  of  the  skies. 
The  whole  picture  is  limned  against  the  brilliant  blue  of  the 
Colorado  sky,  and  stands  out  sharp  and  clear,  one  vivid  block 
of  color  distinctly  defined  against  the  other. 

The  name  "  Garden  of  the  Gods"  was  doubtless  applied  be- 
cause of  the  peculiar  shape  of  the  spires,  needles  and  basilicas 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  245 

of  rock  that  rise  in  every  direction.  These  have  been  corroded 
by  storms  and  worn  smooth  by  time,  until  they  present  the 
appearance  of  half-baked  images  of  clay  moulded  by  human 
hands,  instead  of  sandstone  rocks  fashioned  by  wind  and 
weather.  Each  grotesque  and  fantastic  shape  has  received  a 
name.  One  is  here  introduced  to  the  "  Washerwoman,"  the 
"Lady  of  the  Garden,"  the  "  Siamese  Twins  "  and  the  "  Ute 
God,"  and  besides  these  may  be  seen  the  "  Wreck,"  the 
' '  Baggage  Room, ' '  the  "  Eagle ' '  and  the  ' '  Mushroom. ' '  The 
predominating  tone  is  everywhere  red,  but  black,  brown,  drab, 
white,  yellow,  buff  and  pink  rocks  add  their  quota  to  make  up 
a  harmonious  and  striking  color  scheme,  to  which  the  grey  and 
green  of  clinging  mosses  add  a  final  touch  of  picturesqueness. 

At  Flagstaff,  Arizona,  the  train  was  discarded  for  the  saddle 
and  the  buckboard.  And  now  Will  felt  himself  quite  in  his 
element ;  it  was  a  never-failing  pleasure  to  him  to  guide  a 
large  party  of  guests  over  plain  and  mountain.  From  long 
experience  he  knew  how  to  make  ample  provision  for  their 
comfort.  There  were  a  number  of  wagons  filled  with  supplies, 
three  buckboards,  three  ambulances  and  a  drove  of  ponies. 
Those  that  wished  to  ride  horseback  could  do  so ;  if  they  grew 
tired  of  a  "bucking  broncho,"  opportunity  for  rest  awaited 
them  in  ambulance  or  buckboard.  The  French  chef  found  his 
occupation  gone  when  it  was  a  question  of  cooking  over  a 
camp  fire;  his  principal  business  lay  in  picking  himself  up 
when  his  broncho  threw  him  down.  The  daintiness  of  his 
menu  was  not  a  correct  gage  for  the  daintiness  of  his  language 
on  these  numerous  occasions. 

Through  the  Grand  Canon  of  the  Colorado  Will  led  the  party, 
and  the  dwellers  of  the  old  world  beheld  some  of  the  rugged 
magnificence  of  the  new.  Across  rushing  rivers,  through 
quiet  valleys  and  over  lofty  mountains  they  proceeded,  paus- 
ing on  the  borders  of  peaceful  lakes,  or  looking  over  dizzy 
precipices  into  yawning  chasms. 

There  was  no  lack  of  game  to  furnish  variety  to  their  table; 
mountain  sheep,  mountain  lions,  wild  cats,  deer,  elk,  antelope, 


346  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

and  even  coyotes  and  porcupines  were  shot,  while  the  rivers 
furnished  an  abundance  of  fish. 

It  seemed  likely  at  one  time  that  there  might  be  a  hunt  of 
bigger  game  than  any  here  mentioned,  for  in  crossing  the 
country  of  the  Navajoes  the  party  was  watched  and  followed 
by  mounted  Indians.  An  attack  was  feared,  and  had  the  red 
men  opened  fire  there  would  have  been  a  very  animated  de- 
fense, but  the  suspicious  Indians  were  merely  on  the  alert  to 
see  that  no  trespass  was  committed,  and  when  the  orderly  com- 
pany passed  out  of  their  territory  the  warriors  disappeared. 

The  visitors  were  much  impressed  with  the  vastness  and  the 
undeveloped  resources  of  our  country.  They  were  also  im- 
pressed with  the  climate,  as  the  thermometer  went  down  to  40° 
below  zero  while  they  were  on  Buckskin  Mountain.  Nature 
seemed  to  wish  to  aid  Will  in  the  effort  to  exhibit  novelties  to 
his  foreign  guests,  for  she  tried  her  hand  at  some  spectacular 
effects,  and  succeeded  beyond  mortal  expectation.  She  treated 
them  to  a  few  blizzards,  and  shut  in  by  the  mass  of  whirling, 
blinding  snowflakes,  it  is  possible  their  thoughts  reverted  with 
a  homesick  longing  to  the  sunny  slopes  of  France,  the  placid 
vales  of  Germany,  or  the  foggy  mildness  of  Great  Britain. 

On  the  summit  of  San  Francisco  Mountain,  the  horse  of 
Major  St.  John  Mildmay  lost  its  footing,  and  began  to  slip  on 
the  ice  toward  a  precipice  which  looked  down  a  couple  of 
thousand  feet.  Will  saw  the  danger,  brought  out  his  ever- 
ready  lasso,  and  dexterously  caught  the  animal  in  time  to  save 
it  and  its  rider — a  feat  considered  remarkable  by  the  onlookers. 

Accidents  happened  occasionally,  many  adventures  were 
met  with,  Indian  alarms  were  given,  and  narrow  were  some  of 
the  escapes.  On  the  whole,  it  was  a  remarkable  trail,  and  was 
written  about  under  the  heading,  ' '  A  Thousand  Miles  in  the 
Saddle  with  Buffalo  Bill.'' 

At  Salt  L,ake  City  the  party  broke  up,  each  going  his 
separate  way.  All  expressed  great  pleasure  in  the  trip,  and 
united  in  the  opinion  that  Buffalo  Bill's  reputation  as  guide 
and  scout  was  a  well  deserved  one. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT   SCOUTS.  247 

The  Wild  West  had  already  engaged  space  just  outside  the 
World's  Fair  grounds  for  an  exhibit  in  1893,  and  Will  was 
desirous  of  introducing  some  new  and  striking  feature.  He 
had  succeeded  in  presenting  to  the  people  of  Europe  some  new 
ideas,  and,  in  return,  the  European  trip  had  furnished  to  him 
the  much  desired  novelty.  He  had  performed  the  work  of  an 
educator  in  showing  to  old-world  residents  the  conditions  of  a 
new  civilization,  and  the  idea  was  now  conceived  of  showing 
to  the  world  gathered  at  the  arena  in  Chicago  a  representation 
of  the  cosmopolitan  military  force.  He  called  it  ' '  A  Congress 
of  the  Rough  Riders  of  the  World. "  It  is  a  combination  at  once 
ethnological  and  military. 

To  the  Indians  and  cowboys  were  added  Mexicans,  Cossacks 
and  South  Americans,  with  regular  trained  cavalry  from  Ger- 
many, France,  England  and  the  United  States.  This  aggre- 
gation showed  for  the  first  time  in  1893,  an^  was  an  instan- 
taneous success.  Of  it  Opie  Read  gives  a  fine  description  : 

1  *  Morse  made  the  two  worlds  touch  the  tips  of  their  fingers 
together.  Cody  has  made  the  warriors  of  all  nations  join 
hands. 

"  In  one  act  we  see  the  Indian,  with  his  origin  shrouded  in 
history's  mysterious  fog  ;  the  cowboy — nerve-strung  product 
of  the  new  world  ;  the  American  soldier,  the  dark  Mexican,  the 
glittering  soldier  of  Germany,  the  dashing  cavalryman  of 
France,  the  impulsive  Irish  dragoon,  and  that  strange,  swift 
spirit  from  the  plains  of  Russia,  the  Cossack. 

1 '  Marvelous  theatric  display — a  drama  with  scarcely  a  word — 
Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  America  in  panoramic  whirl,  and  yet  as 
individualized  as  if  they  had  never  left  their  own  country. ' ' 

In  1893  the  horizon  of  my  brother's  interests  enlarged.  In 
July  of  that  year,  the  writer  was  married  to  Mr.  Hugh  A. 
Wetmore,  editor  of  the  Duluth  Press.  My  steps  now  turned 
to  the  north,  and  the  enterprising  young  city  on  the  shore  of 
Lake  Superior  became  my  home.  During  the  long  years  of  my 
widowhood  my  brother  always  bore  toward  me  the  attitude 
of  guardian  and  protector ;  I  could  rely  upon  his  support  in 
any  venture  I  deemed  a  promising  one,  and  his  considerate 
thoughtfulness  did  not  fail  when  I  remarried.  He  wished  to 


248  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

see  me  well  established  in  my  new  home  ;  he  desired  to  ensure 
my  happiness  and  prosperity,  and  with  this  end  in  view  he 
purchased  the  Duluth  Press  plant,  erected  a  fine  brick  building 
to  serve  as  headquarters  for  the  newspaper  venture,  and  we 
became  business  partners  in  the  untried  field  of  press-work. 

The  business  bade  fair  to  be  a  prosperous  one.  We  invited 
my  brother  to  make  Duluth  a  visit,  and  look  over  his  business 
interests.  He  timed  his  trip  to  give  us  a  New  Year's  call. 
General  invitations  were  issued  to  the  business  people  at  large 
and  the  many  new  acquaintances  we  had  made  in  Duluth,  and 
several  hundred  friends  outside  the  city  were  also  asked  to  meet 
the  business  manager  of  the  Duluth  Press  at  a  New  Year's 
reception.  The  response  was  of  the  genuine  Western  kind, 
fully  eighteen  hundred  people  being  present  during  the 
evening.  The  building  was  thronged  with  those  who  wished 
to  see  the  guest  of  honor  and  bid  him  welcome  to  Duluth. 

We  were  encouraged  by  the  success  of  the  business  venture 
on  which  we  had  entered,  for  my  faith  in  the  future  greatness 
of 'Duluth  was,  and  is,  unbounded.  I  induced  my  brother  to 
still  further  invest  in  the  Zenith  City.  Property  was  purchased 
on  an  eminence  overlooking  St.  Louis  Bay,  and  the  institution 
known  as  the  Cody  Sanatorium  was  built  and  furnished  in  1896. 
This  building  was  finely  situated  in  one  of  the  most  healthful 
and  picturesque  locations  anywhere  to  be  found,  and  the  enter- 
prise was  self-supporting  from  the  beginning.  The  added  care 
and  responsibility,  however,  proved  too  much  for  me,  so  it 
became  necessary  that  some  one  take  my  place  in  the  business 
management  of  the  paper. 

At  that  time  the  Duluth  Press  was  fairly  on  its  feet,  and 
showed  a  good  financial  standing.  I  considered  it  on  a  secure 
basis,  and  proposed  to  my  brother  that  he  take  some  one  else 
in  as  partner  in  my  place.  Personally,  Will  had  never  at- 
tempted any  supervision  of  this  business,  everything  had  been 
entrusted  to  my  management.  I  retired  from  the  publishing 
business  in  August  of  '97,  and  devoted  my  time  and  energies 
toward  permanently  establishing  a  flourishing  health  resort. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  249 

How  this  would  have  turned  out  we  were  not  permitted  to 
know,  for  on  the  iyth  of  November,  1897,  tne  Sanatorium 
burned  to  the  ground.  There  was  only  a  small  insurance  on 
the  property,  and  it  was  my  sad  lot  to  stand  upon  the  hill-top, 
on  a  bitter  winter's  night,  and  witness  thousands  of  my 
brother's  hard  earned  money  go  up  in  smoke. 

The  sun  rose  next  morning  on  a  changed  scene.  The  even- 
ing before  its  setting  rays  fell  upon  an  elegant  and  beautiful 
institute  ;  its  morning  beams  lit  up  a  mass  of  smoking,  disfigur- 
ing ruins.  No  word  of  reproach  or  blame  reached  me  from  my 
brother  ;  only  a  message  of  sympathy  and  condolence  flew  over 
the  wires  to  his  luckless  business  partner. 

After  being  released  from  the  cares  incident  to  the  Sanatorium 
work,  I  resumed  the  publishing  business,  in  which  we  are  now 
actively  engaged. 

The  next  year  Will  erected  a  home  for  me  upon  the  site 
where  the  health  institute  had  stood.  This  beautiful  home, 
provided  by  a  brother's  unselfish  love,  I  have  named  Cody  view, 
in  honor  of  the  donor.  I  may  be  prejudiced  in  its  favor,  but 
it  commands  a  view  so  striking  and  magnificent  that  I  cannot 
conceive  any  thing  more  lovely  on  earth. 

Both  my  brother  and  myself  are  trailing  toward  the  sunset 
of  life.  He  expects  and  desires  to  see  his  life's  star  sink  be- 
hind the  far-off  Rocky  Mountains  ;  it  is  my  wish  to  receive 
my  summons  on  the  mountain-top  where  my  chosen  home  is 
situated.  Some  day  those  that  come  after  me  will  be  surrounded 
by  stately  homes,  the  suburban  hill-top  will  have  developed 
into  a  beautiful  residence  avenue,  and  not  only  will  the  dwellers 
in  Cody  view  revel  in  the  beauties  of  sky,  lake  and  hill,  but 
they  will  overlook  a  city  which  will  be  the  metropolis  of  the 
Northwest. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

TENTED  CITY" — AN  INCIDENT  IN  A  BOSTON  HOSPITAL — 
THE  WILD  WEST  VISITS  NORTH  PLATTE — CODY  DAY  AT 

THE  OMAHA  EXPOSITION — A  REUNION  OF  PIONEERS. 

INCE  1893  the  Wild  West  exhi- 
bitions have  been  restricted  to 
the  various  cities  of  our  own 
land.  Life  in  "Buffalo  Bill's 
Tented  City,"  as  it  is  called, 
is  like  life  in  a  small  village. 
There  are  some  six  hundred 
persons  in  the  various  depart- 
ments. Many  of  the  men  have 
their  families  with  them;  the 
Indians  have  their  squaws  and 
papooses,  and  the  variety  of 
nationalities,  dialects  and  cos- 
tumes, makes  the  miniature  city 
an  interesting  and  entertaining  one. 

The  Indians  may  be  seen  eating  bundles  of  meat  from  their 
fingers  and  drinking  tankards  of  iced  buttermilk.  The  Mexi- 
cans, a  shade  more  civilized,  shovel  with  their  knives  great 
quantities  of  the  same  food  into  the  capacious  receptacle  pro- 
vided by  nature.  The  Americans,  despite  what  is  said  of  their 
rapid  eating,  take  time  to  laugh  and  crack  jokes,  and  finish 
their  repast  with  a  product  only  known  to  the  highest  civiliza- 
tion— ice  cream. 

Nate  Salsbury  had  his  young  son  with  him  during  one  sum- 
mer season.     The  boy  tried  to  emulate  the  Indians  in  their 
vocal  gymnastics,  and  the  father  endured  it  for  a  time  in 
silence,  but  his  patience  became  exhausted. 
250 


LAST  OP  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  251 

"If  you  don't  stop  that  bawling,  I'll  punish  you,"  he 
warned. 

The  young  hopeful  paused  long  enough  to  reply  :  ' '  All 
right,  father  ;  you  spank,  and  I'll  yell  like  the  Indians,  just  the 
same!" 

When  the  Wild  West  visited  Boston  one  hot  June  day  the 
parade  passed  a  children's  hospital  on  the  way  to  the  show- 
grounds. Many  of  the  little  invalids  were  unable  to  leave 
their  couches.  All  who  could  do  so  ran  to  the  open  windows 
and  gazed  eagerly  at  the  passing  procession,  and  the  greatest  ex- 
citement prevailed.  These  more  fortunate  little  ones  described, 
as  best  they  could,  to  the  little  sufferers  who  could  not  leave 
their  beds  the  wonderful  things  they  saw.  The  Indians  were 
the  special  admiration  of  the  children.  After  the  procession 
passed,  one  wee  lad,  bed-ridden  by  spinal  trouble,  cried  bit- 
terly because  he  had  not  seen  it.  A  kind-hearted  nurse  en- 
deavored to  soothe  the  child,  but  words  proved  unavailing. 
Then  a  bright  idea  struck  the  patient  woman ;  she  told  him  he 
might  write  a  letter  to  the  great  "Buffalo  Bill"  himself  and 
ask  him  for  an  Indian's  picture. 

The  idea  was  taken  up  with  delight,  and  the  child  spent  an 
eager  hour  in  penning  the  letter.  It  was  pathetic  in  its  sim- 
plicity. The  little  sufferer  told  the  great  showman  that  he  was 
sick  in  bed,  was  unable  to  see  the  Indians  when  they  passed 
the  hospital,  and  that  he  longed  to  see  a  photograph  of  one. 

The  important  missive  was  mailed,  and  even  the  impatient 
little  invalid  knew  it  was  useless  to  expect  an  answer  that  day. 
The  morning  had  hardly  dawned  before  a  child's  bright  eyes 
were  open.  Every  noise  was  listened  to,  and  he  wondered 
when  the  postman  would  bring  him  a  letter.  The  nurse 
hardly  dared  to  hope  that  a  busy  man  like  Buffalo  Bill  would 
take  time  to  respond  to  the  wish  of  a  sick  child. 

"  Colonel  Cody  is  a  very  busy  man,"  she  said.  "  We  must 
be  patient." 

At  perhaps  the  twentieth  repetition  of  this  remark  the  door 
opened  noiselessly.  In  came  a  six-foot  Indian,  clad  in  leather 


252  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

trousers  and  wrapped  in  a  scarlet  blanket.  He  wore  a  head- 
dress of  tall,  waving  feathers  and  carried  his  bow  in  his  hand. 

The  little  invalids  gasped  in  wonder;  then  they  shrieked 
with  delight.  One  by  one,  silent  and  noiseless,  but  smiling, 
six  splendid  warriors  followed  the  first.  The  visitors  had 
evidently  been  well-trained,  and  had  received  explicit  direc- 
tions as  to  their  actions. 

So  unusual  a  sight  in  the  orderly  hospital  so  startled  the 
nurse  that  she  could  not  even  speak.  The  warriors  drew  up 
in  a  line  and  saluted  her.  The  happy  children  were  shouting 
in  such  glee  that  the  poor  woman's  fright  was  unnoticed. 

The  Indians  ranged  themselves  in  the  narrow  space  between 
the  cots,  laid  aside  their  gay  blankets,  placed  their  bows  upon 
the  floor  and,  waving  their  arms  to  and  fro,  executed  a  quiet 
war  dance.  A  sham  battle  was  fought,  followed  by  a  song  of 
victory.  After  this  the  blankets  were  again  donned,  the  kindly 
red  men  went  away,  still  smiling  as  benignly  as  their  war  paint 
would  allow  them  to  do.  A  cheer  of  gratitude  and  delight 
followed  them  down  the  broad  corridors.  The  happy  children 
talked  about  Buffalo  Bill  and  the  Wild  West  show  for  weeks 
after  this  visit. 

North  Platte  had  long  urged  my  brother  to  bring  the  show 
there.  The  citizens  wished  to  see  the  mammoth  tents  spread 
over  the  ground  where  the  scout  once  followed  the  trail  on  the 
actual  war-path;  they  desired  that  their  famous  fellow-citizen 
should  thus  honor  his  home  town.  A  performance  was  finally 
given  there  on  October  12,  1896,  the  special  car  bearing  Will 
and  his  party  arriving  the  preceding  day,  Sunday.  The  writer 
of  these  chronicles  joined  the  party  in  Omaha,  and  we  left  that 
city  after  the  Saturday  night  performance. 

The  Union  Pacific  Railroad  had  offered  my  brother  every 
inducement  to  make  this  trip  ;  among  other  things,  the  officials 
promised  to  make  special  time  in  running  from  Omaha  to 
North  Platte. 

When  we  awoke  Sunday  morning  we  found  that  in  some 
way  the  train  had  been  delayed,  that  instead  of  making 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  253 

special  time  we  were  several  hours  late.  Will  telegraphed  this 
fact  to  the  officials.  At  the  next  station  double-headers  were 
put  on,  and  the  gain  became  at  once  perceptible.  At  Grand 
Island  a  congratulatory  telegram  was  sent,  noting  the  gain  in 
time.  At  the  next  station  we  passed  the  Lightning  Express, 
the  "  flyer,"  to  which  usually  everything  gives  way,  and  the 
good  faith  of  the  company  was  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  this 
train  was  side-tracked  to  make  way  for  Buffalo  Bill's  Wild 
West  train.  Another  message  was  sent  over  the  wires  to  the 
officials  ;  it  read  as  follows  : 

"  Have  just  noticed  that  Lightning  Express  is  side-tracked 
to  make  way  for  Wild  West.  I  herewith  promote  you  to  top 
seat  in  heaven.'* 

The  trip  was  a  continued  ovation.  Every  station  was 
thronged,  and  Will  was  obliged  to  step  out  on  the  platform 
and  make  a  bow  to  the  assembled  crowds,  his  appearance  being 
invariably  greeted  with  a  round  of  cheers.  When  we  reached 
the  station  at  North  Platte  we  found  that  the  entire  population 
had  turned  out  to  receive  their  fellow- townsman.  The  ' '  Cody 
Guards,"  a  band  to  which  Will  presented  beautiful  uniforms 
of  white  broadcloth  trimmed  with  gold  braid,  struck  up  the 
strains  of  ' '  See  the  Conquering  Hero  Comes. ' '  The  mayor 
attempted  to  do  the  welcoming  honors  of  the  city,  but  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  make  himself  heard.  Cheer  followed 
cheer  from  the  enthusiastic  crowd. 

We  had  expected  to  reach  the  place  some  hours  earlier,  but 
our  late  arrival  encroached  upon  the  hour  of  church  service. 
The  ministers  discovered  that  it  was  impossible  to  hold 
their  congregations,  so  they  were  dismissed  and  the  pastors 
accompanied  them  to  the  station,  one  reverend  gentleman  hu- 
morously remarking  : 

' '  We  shall  be  obliged  to  take  for  our  text  this  morning, 
'  Buffalo  Bill  and  his  Wild  West  Show, '  and  will  now  proceed 
to  the  station  for  the  discourse." 

Will's  tally-ho  coach,  drawn  by  six  horses,  was  in  waiting 
for  the  incoming  party.  The  members  of  his  family  seated 


254  LAST  OF  THE   GREAT  SCOUTS. 

themselves  in  that  conveyance,  and  we  passed  through  the 
town  preceded  and  followed  by  a  band.  As  we  debarked  at 
the  home  residence  both  bands  united  in  a  welcoming  strain  of 
martial  music. 

My  oldest  sister,  Julia,  whose  husband  is  manager  of 
"Scout's Rest  Ranch,"  when  informed  that  the  Wild  West 
was  to  visit  North  Platte,  conceived  the  idea  of  making  this 
visit  the  occasion  of  a  family  reunion.  We  had  never  met  in 
an  unbroken  circle  since  the  days  of  our  first  separation,  but, 
as  a  result  of  her  efforts,  we  sat  thus  that  evening  in  my  broth- 
er's home.  The  next  day  our  mother-sister,  as  she  had  always 
been  regarded,  entertained  us  at  "Scout's  Rest  Ranch." 
Only  one  thing  marred  the  pleasure  of  this  gathering.  Sister 
May,  the  youngest  of  the  family,  was  married  in  1872  to  Mr. 
E.  C.  Bradford.  She  met  her  own  family  for  the  first  time 
since  her  husband's  death,  which  occurred  in  California, 
whither  he  had  gone  in  the  vain  pursuit  of  health,  and  as  her 
bereavement  was  very  recent,  her  heavy  mourning  cast  the 
only  shadow  on  an  otherwise  happy  scene. 

The  Wild  West  show  had  visited  Duluth  for  the  first  time 
that  same  year.  This  city  has  a  population  of  65,000.  North 
Platte  numbers  3,500.  When  he  wrote  to  me  of  his  intention 
to  take  the  Wild  West  show  to  Duluth,  Will  offered  to  make  a 
wager  that  his  own  little  town  would  furnish  a  bigger  crowd 
than  would  the  city  of  my  residence.  I  could  not  accept  any 
such  inferred  slur  upon  the  Zenith  City,  so  accepted  the  wager, 
a  silk  hat  against  a  fur  cloak. 

October  i2th,  the  date  of  the  North  Platte  perform- 
ance, dawned  bright  and  cloudless.  ' '  To-day  decides 
our  wager,"  said  Will.  "  I  expect  there  will  be  two  or  three 
dozen  people  out  on  this  prairie.  Duluth  turned  out  a  good 
many  thousands,  so  I  suppose  you  think  j^our  wager  as  good 
as  won." 

The  manager  of  the  tents  evidently  thought  the  outlook  a 
forlorn  one.  I  shared  his  opinion  and  was,  in  fancy,  already 
the  possessor  of  a  fine  fur  cloak. 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS.  255 

"Colonel,  shall  we  stretch  the  full  canvas?"  asked  the  tent 
man. 

"  Every  inch  of  it,"  was  the  prompt  response.  "  We  want 
to  show  North  Platte  the  capacity  of  the  Wild  West,  at  any 
rate." 

As  we  started  for  the  grounds  Will  was  evidently  uncertain 
over  the  outcome,  in  spite  of  his  previous  boast  of  the  reception 
North  Platte  would  give  him.  "We'll  have  a  big  tent  and 
plenty  of  room  to  spare  in  it,"  he  observed. 

But  as  we  drove  to  the  grounds  we  soon  began  to  see  indi- 
cations of  a  coming  crowd.  The  people  were  pouring  in  from 
all  directions;  the  very  atmosphere  seemed  populated  ;  as  the 
dust  was  nearly  a  foot  deep  on  the  roads,  the  moving  popu- 
lace made  the  air  almost  too  thick  for  breathing.  It  was  dur- 
ing the  time  of  the  county  fair,  and  managers  of  the  Union 
Pacific  road  announced  that  excursion  trains  would  be  run  from 
every  town  and  hamlet,  the  officials  and  their  families  coming 
up  from  Omaha  on  a  special  car.  Where  the  crowds  came 
from  it  was  impossible  to  say.  It  looked  as  if  a  feat  of  magic 
had  been  performed,  and  that  the  stones  were  turned  into  men, 
or,  perchance,  that,  as  in  olden  tales,  they  came  up  out  of  the 
earth. 

Accustomed  though  he  is  to  the  success  of  the  show,  Will 
was  dumbfounded  by  this  attendance.  As  the  crowds  poured  in 
I  became  alarmed  about  my  wager.  I  visited  the  ticket-seller 
and  asked  how  the  matter  stood. 

"It's  pretty  close,"  he  answered.  "  Duluth  seems  to  be 
dwindling  away  before  the  mightiness  of  the  great  American 
Desert." 

This  section  of  the  country,  which  was  a  wilderness  only  a 
few  years  ago,  assembled  over  ten  thousand  people  to  attend  a 
performance  of  the  Wild  West  show. 

Omaha,  where  the  opening  performance  of  this  exhibition 
was  given,  honored  Will  last  year  by  setting  apart  one  day  as 

Cody  Day. ' '  August  3  ist  was  devoted  to  his  reception,  and  a 
large  and  enthusiastic  crowd  gathered  to  do  the  Nebraska 


256  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS. 

pioneer  honor.  The  parade  reached  the  fair  grounds  at  eleven 
o'clock,  where  it  was  fittingly  received  by  one  hundred  and 
fifty  mounted  Indians  from  the  encampment.  A  large  square 
space  had  been  reserved  for  the  reception  of  the  party  in  front 
of  the  Sherman  gate.  As  it  filed  through  great  applause  was 
sent  up  by  the  waiting  multitude,  and  the  noise  became  deaf- 
ening when  my  brother  made  his  appearance  on  a  magnificent 
chestnut  horse — the  gift  of  General  Miles.  He  was  accompanied 
by  a  large  party  of  officials  and  Nebraska  pioneers,  who  dis- 
mounted to  seat  themselves  on  the  grand  stand.  Prominent 
among  these  were  the  governor  of  the  state,  Senator  Thurston, 
and  Will's  old  friend  and  first  employer,  Mr.  Alexander  Majors. 
As  Will  ascended  the  platform  he  was  met  by  General  Manager 
Clark  son,  who  welcomed  him  in  the  name  of  the  president  of 
the  exposition,  whose  official  duties  precluded  his  presence. 
Governor  Holcomb  was  then  introduced,  and  his  speech  was 
a  brief  review  of  the  evolution  of  Nebraska  from  a  wilderness 
of  a  generation  ago  to  the  great  state  which  produced  this 
marvelous  exposition.  Manager  Clarkson  remarked,  as  he 
introduced  Mr.  Majors,  "  Here  is  the  father  of  them  all,  Alex- 
ander Majors  ;  a  man  connected  with  the  very  earliest  history 
of  Nebraska,  and  the  business  father  of  Colonel  Cody." 

This  old  pioneer  was  accorded  a  reception  only  a  shade  less 
enthusiastic  than  that  which  greeted  the  hero  of  the  day.  He 
said  : 

"  Gentlemen,  and  my  boy,  Colonel  Cody  !  (Laughter.)  Can 
I  say  a  few  words  of  welcome.  Friend  Creighton  and  I  came 
down  here  together  to-day  and  he  thought  I  was  not  equal  to 
the  occasion.  Gentlemen,  I  do  not  know  whether  I  am  equal 
to  the  occasion  at  this  time, but  lam  going  to  do  the  best  for  you 
that  I  can.  Give  me  your  hand,  Colonel.  Gentlemen,  forty- 
three  years  ago  this  day,  this  fine  looking  physical  specimen  of 
manhood  was  brought  to  me  by  his  mother — a  little  boy  nine 
years  old — and  little  did  I  think  at  that  time  that  the  boy  that 
was  standing  before  me,  asking  for  employment  of  some  kind 
by  which  I  could  afford  to  pay  his  mother  a  little  money  for 


LAST   OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  257 

his  services,  was  going  to  be  a  boy  of  such  destiny  as  he  has 
turned  out  to  be.  In  this  country  we  have  great  men,  we  have 
great  men  in  Washington,  we  have  men  who  are  famous  as 
politicians  in  this  country  ;  we  have  great  statesmen,  we  have 
had  Jackson  and  Grant,  and  we  had  Lincoln  ;  we  have  men 
great  in  agriculture  and  in  stock  growing,  and  in  the  manu- 
facturing business  men  who  have  made  great  names  for  them- 
selves, who  have  stood  high  in  the  nation  ;  we  have  had  Barnum 
in  the  show  business.  Next,  and  even  greater  and  higher,  we 
have  had  a  Cody.  He,  gentlemen,  stands  now  at  the  head  of 
the  showmen  of  the  United  States  of  America,  and  of  the 
world.  When  the  boy  Cody  came  to  me,  standing  straight  as 
an  arrow,  and  looked  me  in  the  face,  I  said  to  my  partner, 
1  We  will  take  this  little  boy ' — Mr.  Russell  was  standing  by 
my  side — '  and  we  will  pay  him  a  man's  wages  because  he  can 
ride  a  pony  just  as  well  as  a  man  can.  '  He  was  lighter  and 
could  do  service  of  that  kind  when  he  was  nine  years  old.  I 
remember  when  we  paid  him  $25  for  the  first  month's  work. 
He  was  paid  in  half-dollars  and  he  got  fifty  of  them.  He  tied 
them  up  in  his  little  handkerchief,  and  when  he  got  home  he 
untied  the  handkerchief  and  spread  the  money  all  over  the 
table." 

Colonel  Cody — "  I  have  been  spreading  it  ever  since." 
A  few  remarks  followed  indicative  of  Mr.  Majors' s  appreci- 
ation of  the  exhibition,  and  he  closed  with  the  remark  :    ' '  Bless 
your  precious  heart,  Colonel  Cody!  "  and  sat  down  amid  great 
applause. 

Senator  Thurston's  remarks  were  equally  happy.  He  said  : 
"Colonel  Cody,  this  is  your  day.  This  is  your  exposition. 
This  is  your  city.  And  we  all  rejoice  that  Nebraska  is  your 
state.  You  have  carried  the  fame  of  our  country  and  of  our 
state  all  over  the  civilized  world;  you  have  been  received  and 
honored  by  princes,  by  emperors  and  by  kings;  the  titled 
women  in  the  courts  of  the  nations  of  the  world  have  been 
captivated  by  your  charm  of  manner  and  your  splendid  man- 
hood. You  are  known  wherever  you  go,  abroad  or  in  the 


258  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

United  States,  as  Colonel  Cody,  the  best  representative  of  the 
great  and  progressive  West.  You  stand  here  to-day  in  the 
midst  of  a  wonderful  assembly.  Here  are  representatives  of 
the  heroic  and  daring  characters  of  most  of  the  nations  of  the 
world.  You  are  entitled  to  the  honor  paid  you  to-day,  and 
especially  entitled  to  it  here.  This  people  know  you  as  a  man 
who  has  carried  this  demonstration  of  yours  to  foreign  lands, 
and  exhibited  it  at  home.  You  have  not  been  a  showman  in  the 
common  sense  of  the  word.  You  have  been  a  great  national  and 
international  educator  of  men.  You  have  furnished  a  demon- 
stration of  the  possibilities  of  our  country  that  has  advanced 
us  in  the  opinion  of  all  the  world.  But  we  who  have  been 
with  you  a  third,  or  more  than  a  third  of  a  century,  we  re- 
member you  more  dearly  and  tenderly  than  others  do.  We 
remember  that  when  this  whole  Western  land  was  a  wilderness, 
when  these  representatives  of  the  aborigines  were  attempting 
to  hold  their  own  against  the  onward  tide  of  civilization,  the 
settler  and  the  hardy  pioneer,  the  women  and  the  children,  felt 
safe  whenever  Cody  rode  along  the  frontier;  he  was  their  pro- 
tector and  defender. 

"  Cody,  this  is  your  home.  You  live  in  the  hearts  of  the 
people  of  our  state.  God  bless  you,  and  keep  you  and  prosper 
you  in  your  splendid  work." 

Will  was  deeply  touched  by  these  strong  expressions  from 
his  friends.  As  he  moved  to  the  front  of  the  platform  to  re- 
spond his  appearance  was  the  signal  for  a  prolonged  burst  of 
cheers.  He  said  : 

' '  You  cannot  expect  me  to  make  adequate  response  for  the 
honor  which  you  have  bestowed  upon  me  to-day.  You  have 
overwhelmed  my  speaking  faculties.  I  cannot  corral  enough 
ideas  to  attempt  a  coherent  reply  in  response  to  the  honor 
which  you  have  accorded  me.  How  little  I  dreamed  in  the 
long  ago  that  the  lonely  path  of  the  scout  and  the  pony  ex- 
press rider  would  lead  me  to  the  place  you  have  assigned  me 
to-day.  Here,  near  the  banks  of  the  mighty  Missouri,  which 
flows  unvexed  to  the  sea,  my  thoughts  revert  to  the  early  days 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  259 

of  my  manhood.  I  looked  eastward  across  this  rushing  tide  to 
the  Atlantic,  and  dreamed  that  in  that  long-settled  region  all 
men  were  rich  and  all  women  happy.  My  friends,  that  day 
has  come  and  gone.  I  stand  among  you  a  witness  that  nowhere 
in  the  broad  universe  are  men  richer  in  manly  integrity,  and 
women  happier  in  their  domestic  kingdom,  than  here  in  our 
own  Nebraska. 

' '  I  have  sought  fortune  in  many  lands,  but  wherever  I  have 
wandered,  the  flag  of  our  beloved  state  has  been  unfurled  to 
every  breeze;  from  the  Platte  to  the  Danube,  from  the  Tiber 
to  the  Clyde,  the  emblem  of  our  sovereign  state  has  always 
floated  over  the  Wild  West.  Time  goes  on  and  brings  with  it 
new  duties  and  responsibilities,  but  we  '  old  men,'  we  who  are 
called  old-timers,  cannot  forget  the  trials  and  tribulations 
which  we  had  to  encounter  while  paving  the  path  for  civiliza- 
tion and  national  prosperity. 

' '  The  whistle  of  the  locomotive  has  drowned  the  howl  of 
the  coyote  ;  the  barb- wire  fence  has  narrowed  the  range  of  the 
cow-puncher ;  but  no  material  evidence  of  prosperity  can  ob- 
literate our  contribution  to  Nebraska' s  imperial  progress. 

* '  Through  your  kindness  to-day  I  have  tasted  the  sweetest 
fruit  that  grows  on  ambition's  tree.  If  you  extend  your  kind- 
ness and  permit  me  to  fall  back  into  the  ranks  as  a  high  pri- 
vate, my  cup  will  be  full. 

"  In  closing,  let  me  call  upon  the  Wild  West,  the  Congress 
of  Rough  Riders  of  the  World,  to  voice  their  appreciation  of 
the  kindness  you  have  shown  them  to-day." 

At  a  given  signal  the  Wild  West  gave  three  ringing  cheers  for 
Nebraska  and  the  trans- Mississippi  exposition.  The  cowboy 
band  followed  with  the  "  Red,  White  and  Blue,"  and  an  exposi- 
tion band  responded  with  the  "Star  Spangled  Banner."  The 
company  fell  into  line  for  a  parade  around  the  grounds,  Colonel 
Cody  following  on  his  chestnut  horse,  Duke.  After  him  came  the 
officials  and  invited  guests  in  carriages,  then  came  the  Cossacks, 
the  Cubans,  the  German  cavalry,  the  United  States  cavalry, 
the  Mexicans,  and  representatives  of  twenty-five  countries. 


260  LAST   OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS. 

As  the  parade  neared  its  end  my  brother  turned  to  his 
friends  and  suggested  that  as  they  had  been  detained  long  past 
the  dinner  hour  in  doing  him  honor,  he  would  like  to  compen- 
sate them  by  giving  an  informal  spread.  This  invitation  was 
promptly  accepted,  and  the  company  adjourned  to  a  cafe, 
where  a  tempting  luncheon  was  spread  before  them.  Never 
before  had  such  a  party  of  pioneers  met  around  a  banquet 
table,  and  many  were  the  reminiscences  of  early  days  brought 
out.  Mr.  Majors,  the  originator  of  the  pony  express  line,  was 
there.  The  two  Creighton  brothers,  who  put  through  the  first 
telegraph  line,  and  took  the  occupation  of  the  express  riders 
from  them,  had  seats  of  honor.  A.  D.  Jones  was  introduced  as 
the  man  who  carried  the  first  post-office  of  Omaha  around  in 
his  hat,  and  who  still  wore  the  hat.  Numbers  of  other  pio- 
neers were  there,  and  each  contributed  his  share  of  racy  anec- 
dotes and  pleasant  reminiscences. 

The  new  feature  of  1898  was  the  band  of  Cuban  riders.  It 
will  tax  even  my  brother's  ingenuity  to  find  a  new  and  start- 
ling innovation  for  the  Paris  Exposition. 

Since  the  above  was  written  and  as  this  volume  is  going  to 
press,  March  29,  1899,  the  arrival  at  Madison  Square  Garden, 
New  York  City,  is  announced  of  native  delegations  from  Porto 
Rico,  the  Sandwich  Islands  and  the  Philippine  Islands,  to 
markedly  enhance  the  ethnological  and  equestrian  attractions 
of  "  Buffalo  Bill's  Wild  West." 


BUFFALO  HILL 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


THIS  TAMING  OF  THE  WILD  WEST — GRASS-GROWN  TRAILS 
AND  HOARY  LANDMARKS — THE  TRAILS  OF  STEEL — OLD 
AND  NEW  MODES  OF  TRAVEL  CONTRASTED — THE  BUF- 
FALO— THE  INDIAN — THE  "LAST  OF  THE  SCOUTS." 


D  0  MINION 


CANAD  A 


X/CO 


HE  story  of  frontier  days  is  a  tale 
that  is  told.  The  Wild  West 
has  vanished  like  mist  in  the 
sun  before  the  touch  of  the 
two  great  magicians  of  the 
nineteenth  century — steam  and 

electricity.  Bancroft  Library 

The  route  of  the  old  historic 
Santa  Fe  trail  is  nearly  fol- 
lowed by  the  Atchison,  To- 
peka  &  Santa  Fe  Railroad, 
which  was  completed  in  1880. 
The  silence  of  the  prairie  was 
once  broken  by  the  wild  war- 
whoop  of  the  Indian  as  he  struggled  to  maintain  his  supremacy 
over  some  adjoining  tribe;  the  muffled  roar  caused  by  the 
heavy  hoof- beats,  of  thousands  of  buffaloes  was  almost  the  only 
other  sound  that  broke  the  stillness.  To-day  the  shriek  of 
the  engine,  the  clang  of  the  bell  and  the  clatter  of  the  car 
wheels  form  a  ceaseless  accompaniment  to  the  cheerful  hum  of 
busy  life,  which  everywhere  pervades  the  wilderness  of  thirty 
years  ago.  Almost  the  only  memorials  of  the  struggles  and 
privations  of  the  hardy  trappers  and  explorers,  whose  daring 
courage  made  the  achievements  of  the  present  possible,  are  the 
historic  landmarks  which  bear  the  names  of  some  of  these  brave 
But  these  are  very  few  in  number.  Pike's  Peak  lifts 

261 


men. 


262  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

its  snowy  head  to  heaven  in  silent  commemoration  of  the  early 
traveler  whose  name  it  bears.  Simpson's  Rest,  a  lofty  obelisk, 
commemorates  the  mountaineer  whose  life  was  for  the  most  part 
passed  upon  its  rugged  slopes,  and  whose  last  request  was  that 
he  should  be  buried  on  its  summit.  Another  cloud-capped 
mountain  height  bears  the  name  of  Fisher's  Peak,  and  thereby 
hangs  a  tale. 

Captain  Fisher  commanded  a  battery  in  the  army  engaged 
in  the  conquest  of  New  Mexico.  His  command  encamped 
near  the  base  of  the  mountain  which  now  bears  his  name. 
Deceived  by  the  illusive  effect  of  the  atmosphere,  he  started  out 
for  a  morning  stroll  to  the  supposed  near-by  elevation,  an- 
nouncing that  he  would  return  in  time  for  breakfast.  The 
day  passed  with  no  sign  of  Captain  Fisher,  and  night  length- 
ened into  a  new  day.  When  the  second  day  passed  without 
his  return,  his  command  was  forced  to  believe  that  he  had  fal- 
len a  prey  to  lurking  Indians,  and  the  soldiers  were  sadly  tak- 
ing their  seats  for  their  evening  meal  when  the  haggard  and 
wearied  captain  put  in  an  appearance.  His  morning  stroll  had 
occupied  two  days  and  a  night,  but  he  set  out  to  visit  the 
mountain  and  he  did  it. 

The  trans-continental  line  which  supplanted  the  Old  Salt 
Lake  Trail,  and  is  now  known  as  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad, 
antedated  the  Atchison,  Topeka  &  Santa  Fe  by  eleven  years. 
The  story  of  the  difficulties  encountered,  and  the  obstacles  over- 
come in  the  building  of  this  road,  furnishes  greater  marvels 
than  any  narrated  in  the  Arabian  Nights'  Tales. 

This  railroad  superseded  the  Pony  Express  Line,  the  reek- 
ing, panting  horses  of  which  used  their  utmost  endeavor  and 
carried  their  tireless  riders  fifteen  miles  an  hour,  covering  their 
circuit  in  eight  days'  time  at  their  swiftest  rate  of  speed.  The 
iron  horse  gives  a  sniff  of  disdain  and  easily  traverses  the  same 
distance,  from  the  Missouri  line  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  in  three 
days. 

Travelers  who  step  aboard  the  swiftly-moving  luxurious  cars 
of  to-day,  give  little  thought  to  their  predecessors  ;  for  the 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  263 

dangers  the  early  voyagers  encountered  they  have  no  sympathy. 
The  traveler  in  the  stage-coach  was  beset  by  perils  without  from 
the  Indians  and  the  outlaws  ;  he  faced  the  equally  unpleasant 
companionship  of  fatigue  and  discomfort  within.  The  jolting, 
swinging  coach  bounced  and  jounced  the  unhappy  passengers 
as  the  reckless  driver  lashed  the  flying  horses.  Away  they 
galloped  over  mountains  and  through  ravines,  with  no  cessation 
of  speed.  Hven  the  shipper  pays  the  low  rate  of  transportation 
asked  to-day  with  reluctance,  and  forgets  the  great  debt  he 
owes  this  adjunct  of  our  civilization. 

But,  great  as  are  the  practical  benefits  derived  from  the  rail- 
ways, we  cannot  repress  a  sigh  as  we  meditate  on  the  pictureque 
phases  of  the  vanished  era.  Gone  are  the  bull-whackers  and 
the  prairie  schooners!  Gone  are  the  stage-coaches  and  their 
drivers!  Gone  are  the  Pony  Express  riders!  Gone  are  the 
trappers,  the  hardy  pioneers,  the  explorers  and  the  scouts! 
Gone  is  the  prairie  monarch,  the  shaggy,  unkempt  buffalo  ! 

In  1869,  only  thirty  years  ago,  the  train  on  the  Kansas  Pa- 
cific road  was  delayed  eight  hours  in  consequence  of  the 
passage  of  an  enormous  herd  of  buffaloes  over  the  track  in 
front  of  it.  But  the  easy  mode  of  travel  introduced  by  the 
railroad  brought  hundreds  of  sportsmen  to  the  plains,  who 
wantonly  killed  this  noble  animal  solely  for  sport,  and  thou- 
sands of  buffaloes  were  sacrificed  for  their  skins,  for  which  there 
was  a  wide-spread  demand.  From  1868  to  1881,  in  Kansas 
alone,  there  was  paid  out  $2,500,000  for  the  bones  of  this  ani- 
mal, which  were  gathered  up  on  the  prairie  and  used  in  the 
carbon  works  of  the  country.  This  represents  a  total  death 
rate  of  31,000,000  of  buffaloes  in  one  state.  As  far  as  I  am 
able  to  ascertain,  there  remains  at  this  writing  only  one  herd, 
of  less  than  twenty  animals,  out  of  all  the  countless  thousands 
that  roamed  the  prairie  so  short  a  time  ago,  and  this  herd  is 
carefully  preserved  in  a  private  park.  There  may  be  a  few 
isolated  specimens  in  menageries  and  shows,  but  this  whole- 
sale slaughter  has  resulted  in  the  practical  extermination  of 
the  species. 


364  LAST  OF  THE  GREAT   SCOUTS. 

As  with  the  animal  native  to  our  prairies,  so  has  it  been 
with  the  race  native  to  our  land.  We  may  deplore  the  wrongs 
of  the  Indian  and  sympathize  with  his  efforts  to  wrest  justice 
from  his  so-called  protectors.  We  may  admire  his  poetic  na- 
ture, as  evidenced  in  the  myths  and  legends  of  the  race.  We 
may  be  impressed  by  the  stately  dignity,  and  innate  ability  as 
orator  and  statesman,  which  he  displays.  We  may  preserve 
the  different  articles  of  his  picturesque  garb  as  relics.  But  the 
old,  old  drama  of  history  is  repeating  itself  before  the  eyes  of 
this  generation ;  the  inferior  must  give  way  to  the  superior 
civilization.  The  poetic,  picturesque,  primitive  red  man  must 
inevitably  succumb  before  the  all-conquering  tread  of  his 
pitiless,  practical,  progressive  white  brother. 

Cooper  has  immortalized  for  us  the  extinction  of  a  people  in 
the  ' '  Last  of  the  Mohicans. ' '  Many  another  tribe  has  passed 
away,  unhonored  and  unsung.  Westward  the  "Star  of  Em- 
pire ' '  takes  its  way ;  the  great  domain  west  of  the  Mississippi 
is  now  peopled  by  the  white  race,  while  the  Indians  are  shut 
up  in  reservations.  Their  doom  is  sealed  ;  their  sun  is  set. 
' '  Kismet  * '  has  been  spoken  of  them  ;  the  total  extinction  of 
the  race  is  only  a  question  of  time.  In  the  words  of  Rudyard 
Kipling  : 

1 '  Take  up  the  White  Man 's  burden — 

Ye  dare  not  stoop  to  less — 
Nor  call  too  loud  on  freedom 

To  cloke  your  weariness. 
By  all  ye  will  or  whisper, 

By  all  ye  leave  or  do, 
The  silent,  sullen  peoples 

Shall  weigh  your  God  and  you. " 

Of  this  past  epoch  of  our  national  life  there  remains  but  one 
well-known  representative.  That  one  is  my  brother.  He  oc- 
cupies a  unique  place  in  the  portrait  gallery  of  famous  Ameri- 
cans to-day.  It  is  not  alone  his  commanding  personality,  nor 


LAST  OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS.  265 

the  success  he  has  achieved  along  various  lines,  which  gives 
him  the  strong  hold  he  has  on  the  hearts  of  the  American  peo- 
ple, or  the  absorbing  interest  he  possesses  in  the  eyes  of 
foreigners.  The  fact  that  in  his  own  person  he  condenses  a 
period  of  national  history  is  a  large  factor  in  the  fascination  he 
exercises  over  others.  He  may  fitly  be  named  the  ' '  Last  of 
the  Great  Scouts."  He  has  had  great  predecessors.  The 
mantle  of  Kit  Carson  has  fallen  upon  his  shoulders,  and  he 
wears  it  worthily.  He  has  not,  and  never  can  have  a  succes- 
sor. He  is  the  vanishing  point  between  the  rugged  wilderness 
of  the  past  in  Western  life  and  the  vast  achievement  in  the 
present. 

He  expects  to  spend  one  more  year  in  this  country  ;  then  he 
will  close  his  career  as  exhibitor  at  the  Paris  Exposition,  with 
the  closing  year  of  the  century.  With  the  disbanding  of  the 
Wild  West  company  the  last  vestige  of  our  frontier  life  passes 
away  from  the  scene  of  active  realities,  and  becomes  a  matter 
of  history. 

"  Life  is  real,  life  is  earnest,"  sings  the  poet,  and  real  and 
earnest  it  has  been  for  my  brother.  It  has  been  spent  in 
others'  service.  I  cannot  recall  a  time  when  He  has  not  thus 
been  laden  with  heavy  burdens.  Yet  for  himself  he  has  won  a 
reputation,  national  and  international.  A  naval  officer  visiting  in 
China,  relates  that  as  he  stepped  ashore  he  was  offered  two 
books  for  purchase — one  the  Bible,  the  other  a  ' '  Life  of  Buf- 
falo Bill." 

For  nearly  half  a  century,  which  comprises  his  childhood, 
youth  and  manhood,  my  brother  has  been  before  the  public. 
He  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  had  a  childhood,  so  early  was 
he  thrust  among  the  rough  scenes  of  frontier  life,  therein  to 
play  a  man's  part  at  an  age  when  most  boys  think  of  nothing 
more  than  marbles  and  tops.  He  enlisted  in  the  Union  Army 
before  he  was  of  age,  and  did  his  share  in  upholding  the  flag 
during  the  civil  war  as  ably  as  many  a  veteran  of  forty,  and 
since  then  he  has  remained,  for  the  most  part,  in  his  country's 
service,  always  ready  to  go  to  the  front  in  any  time  of  danger. 


266  LAST   OF  THE   GREAT    SCOUTS. 

He  has  achieved  distinction  in  many  and  various  ways.  He  is 
president  of  the  largest  irrigation  enterprise  in  the  world, 
president  of  a  colonization  company,  of  a  town-site  company, 
and  of  two  transportation  companies.  He  is  the  foremost  scout 
and  champion  buffalo  hunter  of  America,  one  of  the  crack 
shots  of  the  world,  and  its  greatest  popular  entertainer.  He  is 
broad-minded  and  progressive  in  his  views,  inheriting  from  both 
father  and  mother  a  hatred  of  oppression  in  any  form.  Taking 
his  mother  as  a  standard,  he  believes  the  franchise  is  a  birth- 
right which  should  appertain  to  intelligence  and  education, 
rather  than  to  sex.  It  is  his  public  career  that  lends  an 
interest  to  his  private  life,  in  which  he  has  been  a  devoted 
and  faithful  son  and  brother,  a  kind  and  considerate  husband, 
a  loving  and  generous  father.  "  Only  the  names  of  them  that 
are  upright,  brave  and  true  can  be  honorably  known,"  were 
the  mother's  dying  words,  and  honorably  known  has  his  name 
become,  in  his  own  country  and  across  the  sea. 

With  the  fondest  expectation  he  looks  forward  to  the  hour 
when  he  shall  make  his  final  bow  to  the  public  and  retire  to 
private  life.  It  is  his  long-cherished  desire  to  devote  his  re- 
maining years  to  the  development  of  the  Big  Horn  Basin,  in 
Wyoming.  He  has  visited  every  country  in  Europe,  and  has 
looked  upon  the  most  beautiful  of  old-world  scenes.  He  is 
familiar  with  all  the  most  splendid  regions  of  his  own  land, 
but  to  him  this  new  El  Dorado  of  the  West  is  the  fairest  spot 
on  earth. 

He  has  already  invested  thousands  of  dollars  and  given 
much  thought  and  attention  toward  the  accomplishment  of  his 
pet  scheme.  An  irrigating  ditch  costing  nearly  a  million  dol- 
lars now  waters  this  fertile  region,  and  various  other  improve- 
ments are  under  way,  to  prepare  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and 
honey  for  the  reception  of  thousands  of  homeless  wanderers. 
Like  the  children  of  Israel,  these  would  never  reach  the  prom- 
ised land  but  for  the  untiring  efforts  of  a  Moses  to  go  on  be- 
fore, but  unlike  the  ancient  guide  and  scout  of  sacred  history,  4 
my  brother  has  been  privileged  to  penetrate  the  remotest  cor- 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT    SCOUTS.  267 

ner  of  his  primitive  land  of  Canaan.  The  log  cabin  he  has 
erected  there  is  not  unlike  the  one  of  our  childhood  days.  Here 
he  finds  his  haven  of  rest,  his  health  resort,  to  which  he 
hastens  when  the  show  season  is  over  and  he  is  free  again  for 
a  space.  He  finds  refreshment  in  the  healthful,  invigorating 
atmosphere  of  his  chosen  retreat  ;  he  enjoys  sweet  solace  from 
the  cares  of  life  under  the  influence  of  its  magnificent 
scenery. 

And  here,  in  the  shadow  of  the  Rockies,  yet  in  the  very 
"  light  of  things,"  it  is  his  wish  to  finish  his  days  as  he  began 
them,  in  opening  up  for  those  who  come  after  him  the  great 
regions  of  the  still  undeveloped  West,  and  in  poring  over  the 
lesson  learned  as  a  boy  on  the  plains  : 

"  That  nature  never  did  betray 
The  heart  that  loved  her. " 


THK  END. 


